MALVALOCA 


SERAFIN   AND   JOAQUIN 
ALVAREZ  QUINTERO 


THE  LIBRARY' 

OF         X 
THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


MALVALOCA 


VOLUME  XIX 
The  Drama  League  Series  of  Plays 


VOLUMES  IN 
THE  DRAMA  LEAGUE  SERIES  OF  PLAYS 


I. — KINDLING By  Charles  Kenyan 

II. — A  THOUSAND  YEARS  AGO        By  Percy  MacKaye 

III. — THE  GREAT  GALEOTO  .    .       By  Jose  Echegaray 

IV. — THE  SUNKEN  BELL  .     .     By  Gerhart  Hauptmann 

V. — MARY  GOES  FIRST       .     By  Henry  Arthur  Jones 

VI. — HER  HUSBAND'S  WIFE     .    .    By  A.  E.  Thomas 

VII. — CHANGE By  J.  0.  Francis 

VIII. — MARTA  OF  THE  LOWLANDS    .   By  Angel  Guimerd 

IX. — PATRIE! By  Victorien  Sardou 

X. — THE  THIEF By  Henry  Bernstein 

XI. — MY  LADY'S  DRESS  .     .     .  By  Edward  Knoblauch 

XII. — THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  TORCH     .     By  Paul  Hervieu 

XIII. — A  WOMAN'S  WAY    .     .  By  Thompson  Buchanan 

XIV. — HOBSON'S  CHOICE    .     .        By  Harold  Brighouse 

XV. — THE  APOSTLE      .     .   By  Paul  Hyacinthe  Loyson 

XVI.— YOUTH        By  Max  Halbe 

XVII. — A  FALSE  SAINT    .     ...  By  Francois  de  Curel 
XVIII. — THE  MOTHERS    .     ...     By  Georg  Hirschfeld 
XIX. — MALVALOCA    .    .     By  S.and J.Alvarez Quintero 
Other  Volumes  in  Preparation 


SERAFIN  AND  JOAQUIN  ALVAREZ  QUINTERO 


MALVALOCA 

A  Drama  in  Three  Acts 

(Suggested  by  an  Andalusian  Song) 


BY 

SERAFIN  AND  JOAQUIN  ALVAREZ  QUINTERO 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  SPANISH  BY 

JACOB  S.  FASSETT,  JR. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BT 

JOHN  GARRETT  UNDERBILL 


Copyright,  191S,  by 

SERAFIN  AND  JOAQUIN  ALVAREZ  QUINTERO 

Copyright,  1916,  by 

JACOB  S.  FASSETT,  JR. 


In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performances  of  it  may  be  given, 
except  by  special  arrangement  with  the  owner  of  the 
acting  rights,  who  may  be  addressed  in  care  of  the 
Society  of  Spanish  Authors,  Room  62,  20  Nassau  St.,  N.  Y. 

SECTION  28.— That  any  person  who  wilfully  and  for  profit  shall 
infringe  any  copyright  secured  by  this  Act,  or  who  shall  know- 
ingly and  wilfully  aid  or  abet  such  infringement,  shall  be 
deemed  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  thereof 
shall  be  punished  by  imprisonment  for  not  exceeding  one  year 
or  by  a  fine  of  not  less  than  one  hundred  dollars  nor  more  than 
one  thousand  dollars,  or  both,  in  the  discretion  of  the  court. 

SECTION  29. — That  any  person,  who,  with  fraudulent  intent, 
shall  insert  or  impress  any  notice  of  copyright  required  by  this 
Act,  or  words  of  the  same  purport,  in  or  upon  any  uncopyrighted 
article,  or  with  fraudulent  intent  shall  remove  or  alter  the  copy- 
right notice  upon  any  article  duly  copyrighted  shall  be  guilty 
of  a  misdemeanor,  punishable  by  a  fine  of  not  less  than  one 
hundred  dollars  and  not  more  than  one  thousand  dollars. — Act  of 
March  4,  1909. 


HUNTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

AT 
THE  COUNTRY  LIFE  PRE&&,  GARDEN  CITY,  N.  V. 


To 
MARCELINO  MENENDEZ  Y  PELAYO 


204161  i 


Serafin  and  Joaquin  Alvarez  Quintero  were  born 
in  Utrera,  a  railway  junction  on  the  Seville-Cadiz 
line,  not  far  from  the  famous  city  of  Jerez  de  la 
Frontera.  Serafin,  the  elder,  was  born  in  March, 
1871,  Joaquin  in  January  two  years  later.  While 
they  were  still  very  young,  the  family  removed  to 
Seville,  where  their  first  farce,  Esgrima  y  amor  (".  Love 
and  Fencing"),  a  trifle  in  one  act,  was  performed  when 
Serafin  was  not  yet  seventeen  years  old.  The  suc- 
cess of  this  venture  was  such  that  the  brothers,  like 
Murillo  and  Velazquez,  went  up  to  Madrid,  where  a 
second  farce  was  acted  at  the  Teatro  Espanol  after 
the  usual  heart-breaking  experiences  which  were 
destined  in  this  case  to  terminate  in  failure.  It  was 
not  until  1898  that  they  achieved  an  assured  position 
through  the  reception  accorded  to  La  buena  Sombra, 
a  sainete,  or  farce,  with  incidental  music,  and  laid 
thereby  the  foundations  for  the  career  of  uninter- 
rupted success  which  has  won  them  a  host  of  friends 
[vii] 


INTRODUCTION 


and  world-wide  reputation,  together  with  the  largest 
rewards  which  are  possible  to  the  literary  life  in 
Spain. 

The  Brothers  Quintero  are  modernists  by  tempera- 
ment and  by  artistic  affiliation.  The  interest  of  a 
play,  in  their  conception,  does  not  lie  in  what  is 
about  to  happen,  but  in  what  is  happening  at  the 
moment,  of  which  the  future  promise  is  but  a  phase. 
Art  cannot  subsist  upon  mere  illusion,  it  derives  its 
strength  from  observation,  from  its  closeness  to  life. 
It  remained  for  the  Quinteros  to  take  an  insignifi- 
cant subject,  present  it  simply  through  a  succession 
of  commonplace  events  of  which  the  protagonists 
were  neither  persons  of  remarkable  originality  nor  of 
intellectual  power,  were  torn  by  no  heroic  passions 
nor  involved  in  any  enterprise  at  all  spectacular, 
abnormal,  bizarre,  or  strange,  and  yet  in  so  doing  to 
produce  a  series  of  plays  of  universal  appeal,  which 
have  continued  to  be  in  constant  demand  in  theatres 
of  every  class  throughout  the  land.  "Our  ideal," 
they  wrote,  "is  to  make  the  spectators  forget  that 
they  are  in  the  theatre  during  the  performance  of 
our  plays." 

An  ideal  of  this  nature  was  not  easy  of  realization. 
At  first  the  task  seemed  impossible.  Las  Flores, 
[  viii] 


INTRODUCTION 


commonly  considered  their  most  notable  piece  of 
work,  was  a  failure  when  it  was  produced  in  1901. 
It  was  urged  that  it  was  not  a  play,  or  that  if  it  was, 
it  was  a  bad  one.  It  lacked  action  and  intrigue — 
as  if,  in  the  words  of  Jacinto  Octavio  Picon,  a  play 
in  which  three  girls  are  married  off  could  possibly 
lack  action  or  intrigue!  "It  is  true  that  there  is  no 
intrigue  in  the  conventional  sense,  no  bearing  of  false 
witness,  no  disguises,  no  assumed  names,  no  quid 
pro  quo,  no  adventures.  There  is  nothing  which 
exaggerates  nor  falsifies  the  portrayal  of  life,  nor 
which  imitates  it  in  its  more  violent  aspects,  in  the 
abnormal  or  the  exceptional.  If  the  incidents  which 
occur  in  Las  Flores  and  the  manner  of  their  taking 
place  are  more  than  sufficient  to  justify  us  in  char- 
acterizing it  as  a  beautiful  comedy,  in  respect  to  form 
its  merits  are  even  greater  still.  The  conversations 
are  so  natural,  the  charm  and  tenderness  which  are 
always  present  are  so  appropriate  to  the  persons  by 
whom  they  are  expressed,  the  interruptions  are  so 
spontaneous  and  so  abundantly  justified  that  there 
are  moments  not  only,  but  long  stretches  of  time 
when  every  suggestion  of  fiction  or  of  the  theatre 
is  banished  from  the  mind,  erased,  obscured,  over- 
come by  the  sovereign  splendor  of  truth, 
[ix] 


INTRODUCTION 


The  bloom  of  Las  Flores  was,  however,  premature. 
The  public  was  not  yet  prepared  to  appreciate  an 
art  that  was  so  delicate.  The  theatre  was  in  a  state 
of  transition,  uncertain  of  what  was  to  come.  Eche- 
garay  still  wrote  fitfully,  while  the  leading  figure, 
Galdos,  was  ushering  in  the  new  era  before  a  patroniz- 
ing, incredulous  public,  sustained  in  his  endeavor 
by  the  powerful  aid  of  Maria  Guerrero  and  Fernando 
Diaz  de  Mendoza.  The  Generation  of  '98,  that 
restless  body  of  young  men  which  was  in  a  few  years 
to  revolutionize  the  literature  of  the  country,  apply- 
ing a  clearer  and  more  relentless  criticism  to  art  than 
was  to  be  found  elsewhere  in  Europe,  had  just  begun 
its  work.  Benavente,  Ruben  Dario,  Azorin,  An- 
tonio and  Manuel  Machado,  Juan  Ramon  Jimenez, 
Valle-Inclan,  Martinez  Sierra  were  still  names  of 
the  future.  The  Quinteros  continued  patiently  to 
develop  their  technique,  but  they  produced  no  second 
Las  Flores.  Their  method  became  more  precisely 
adapted  to  the  purposes  in  hand,  their  style  an  in- 
strument of  nicer  and  freer  expression.  El  Patio, 
Los  Galeotes  ("The  Galeotes")  La  Dicha  ajena  ("The 
Happiness  of  Others")  and  Las  de  Cain  ("The 
Daughters  of  Cain")  represent  earlier  stages  of  the 
evolution,  although  all  were  received  with  the  accus- 

[*] 


INTRODUCTION 


tomed  approbation  of  the  public.  With  the  pro- 
duction of  "Malvaloca"  by  the  Guerrero-Mendoza 
Company  at  the  Princesa  Theatre  in  1912,  the  qual- 
ity of  their  art  appears  clearly  defined,  while  the  style 
has  attained  to  mastery.  "Malvaloca,"  although  not 
the  least  faultless  of  their  plays,  is  among  the  most 
successful  and  thoroughly  typical.  It  was  crowned 
by  the  Spanish  Academy. 

The  Quinteros  are  chroniclers  of  the  life  of  Anda- 
lusia. By  preference  they  write  in  the  Andalusian 
dialect,  a  softened  form  of  Spanish,  bearing  a  rela- 
tion to  the  Castilian  analogous  to  that  in  which  the 
southern  dialects  of  the  United  States  stand  to  liter- 
ary English,  though  vastly  more  corrupt.  The  inci- 
dents with  which  they  deal  are  real — the  fruits  of 
experience  patiently  garnered,  of  a  sympathetic  ap- 
preciation of  the  great  human  panorama  as  it  is 
unfolded  before  their  eyes.  The  details  are  of  un- 
impeachable veracity.  A  century  hence  the  his- 
torian of  manners  will  be  able  to  reconstruct  the 
entire  visible  life  of  the  Spain  of  to-day — at  least 
of  Andalusia — from  a  reading  of  their  pages.  Here 
is  no  striving  for  effect,  no  sense  of  strain  nor  of 
effort;  it  is  all  palpably  real.  And  yet  the  authors 
are  not  realists.  The  incidents  in  themselves  have 
[xi] 


INTRODUCTION 


no  interest,  nor  have  they  as  facts  any  potency  or 
logic  of  their  own.  They  never  are  studied.  The  ap- 
pearance of  reality  only  is  of  concern,  the  convey- 
ing of  the  impression  of  things  as  they  are,  of  life  as 
it  is  lived  commonly  hour  by  hour,  bathed  in  sun- 
shine, steeped  in  it,  unthinkable  without  it,  until  the 
atmosphere,  the  background,  the  story,  and  the 
characters  are  fused  into  a  picture  whose  truth  we 
recognize  at  once  and  should  as  soon  think  of  ques- 
tioning as  the  noon  of  a  summer's  day. 

This  world  is  one  of  vivid  color  set  down  in  pages 
which  are  shot  through  with  light.  It  is  a  specific 
for  good  nature,  and  good  nature  is  the  traditional 
dower  of  Andalusia.  Andalusia  is  all  sunshine. 
Like  Becquer,  the  Quinteros  are  the  poets  of  Seville- — 
Seville  of  the  torero,  the  guitar  and  the  castanet,  of 
bright  burning  daylight  beating  down  upon  the  rows 
of  shining  white  houses,  a  blaze  of  heat  over  it  all; 
then  in  the  evening  the  fragrance  of  orange  blooms 
arises  from  the  gardens  and  the  thrum  of  merriment 
is  heard  in  the  streets  through  long  and  sleepless 
nights.  By  an  amiable  fiction  everybody  is  happy 
in  Seville.  It  is  the  city  of  sunshine  and  fiesta,  of 
alegria,  set  in  its  huerta  of  spring  flowers,  best  em- 
bodied perhaps  in  its  annual  feria  at  Easter,  which 
[xii] 


focusses  in  the  lodge  of  the  Quinteros,  who  are  its 
favorite  sons,  in  whose  works  it  breathes  incarnate, 
the  very  image  of  the  tourist's  ideal.  Professors  of 
happiness  some  one  has  called  them.  Their  art  is 
the  growth  of  a  warm  country  where  the  conditions 
of  life  are  easy  and  men  and  women  are  easy-going 
and  complaisant  so  long  as  they  are  assured  of  a  place 
in  the  sun  and  the  wherewithal  which  is  necessary 
to  bare  subsistence. 

With  the  Quinteros  color  is  not  an  accessory;  it  is 
the  spirit — the  visible  manifestation  of  an  optimism 
inborn  and  incorrigible,  careless  while  the  sun  shines. 
Life,  as  they  see  it,  is  a  source  of  satisfaction.  To 
prolong  it  is  a  pleasure  and  not  a  cause  of  pain. 
Springs  of  happiness  abound  at  which  we  may  pause 
to  drink;  the  man  who  neglects  to  slake  his  thirst 
has  only  himself  to  blame — he  is  abnormal  or  else  he 
is  unwell.  He  cannot  complain  that  the  means  of 
gratifying  his  desires  were  not  to  be  found.  The 
element  of  struggle  is  in  consequence  reduced  to  a 
minimum.  There  are  no  problems.  The  comedies 
are  not  comedies  of  ideas.  The  Quinteros  propound 
no  queries,  they  offer  no  solutions.  Such  things 
do  not  occur  to  their  minds,  or  if  they  do,  find  no  lodg- 
ment there — they  are  the  pettinesses,  the  weaknesses, 
[xiii] 


INTRODUCTION 


the  anxieties  of  our  daily  routine,  in  which  we  sap 
our  strength  or  fret  it  away,  while  the  great  current 
of  life  sweeps  evenly  along.  Tragedy  and  pain  have 
no  place  in  this  philosophy.  Even  sorrow,  when  it 
appears,  seems  something  negative,  remote,  unreal, 
a  cloud  which  passes,  a  shadow  which  heightens  the 
effect  of  the  sunshine.  It  is  like  jealousy  in  romance, 
which  only  serves  to  make  love  sweeter.  Gently 
poetic,  it  adds  a  sense  of  depth,  opens  a  vein  of  sen- 
timent without  which  we  should  enjoy  no  relief, 
humanizes  the  picture  and  sketches  in  the  perspec- 
tive with  a  haunting  suggestion  of  the  transitoriness 
and  insubstantiality  of  life.  There  is  a  touch  of 
Oriental  fatalism  in  this  attitude,  if  insouciance  can 
properly  be  called  fatalism — a  legacy,  perhaps,  from 
the  days  of  the  Moors.  The  person  is  nothing,  the 
plot  is  nothing.  It  is  but  a  succession  of  links  in  the 
chain  of  existence,  a  thread  which  shimmers  as  it 
runs  in  the  sun,  without  any  other  meaning  than  that 
of  duration,  a  mode  of  things  as  they  pass,  of  no 
importance  and  of  no  concern,  as  life,  potent  and  in- 
vigorate, sweeps  on  into  the  beyond. 

The  Quinteros  received  their  training  and  per- 
fected their  style  in  large  measure  in  the  theatres  of 
the  ginero  chico,  or  lesser  genre,  in  which  perform- 
[xiv] 


INTRODUCTION 


ances  of  one-act  plays  and  operettas,  or  zarzuelas, 
are  given  before  different  audiences  at  popular 
prices  at  various  hours  of  the  evening.  The  unity 
of  plot  characteristic  of  the  short  play,  commonly 
the  reproduction  of  popular  customs  or  the  exposi- 
tion of  a  single  theme,  simplifies  the  problem  to  be 
solved.  It  becomes  possible  to  adjust  the  plot  to 
the  subject  matter  without  apparent  weakness  or 
artificiality.  Lope  de  Rueda  had  carried  the  paso 
or  brief  sketch  of  this  type  to  a  point  of  satiric 
perfection  as  early  as  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  Even  in  the  Spanish  farce  of  the  nine- 
teenth, which  was  constructed  after  French  models, 
the  element  of  character  and  the  depiction  of  man- 
ners played  an  important  role,  imparting  a  weight 
and  air  of  veracity  to  the  proceedings  which  dis- 
tinguished them  from  the  prevailing  shop  product 
of  other  countries.  These  qualities  were  also  at  the 
foundation  of  the  world-wide  reputation  of  Jose 
Echegaray,  reinforced  in  his  case  by  a  certain  au- 
thority and  dignity  proper  to  a  mind  accustomed  to 
the  conduct  of  large  affairs.  In  an  age  of  artificiality 
and  generalization,  there  was  in  Spain  always  a 
strong  admixture  of  what  is  called  there  actuality 
— the  sense  of  being  corporeally  present  at  the  very 
[xv] 


INTRODUCTION 


moment,  to  which  Spanish  letters  during  the  last 
quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century  owe  much  of  their 
distinction . 

A  style  so  subtle  and  so  much  a  matter  of  deft 
treatment  of  detail  as  the  new  manner,  was  of  course 
not  possible  in  1898,  nor  was  it  an  attainment  within 
the  reach  of  the  very  young.  In  the  beginning  the 
Quinteros  were  no  more  than  saineteros — farceurs  in 
the  popular  genre — in  whom  the  gift  of  observation 
and  the  color  sense  were  exceptionally  keen.  They 
constructed  their  sketches  carefully  in  accordance 
with  orthodox  standards.  The  plot  still  remained 
a  dominant  factor,  sufficient  to  sustain  the  interest 
in  itself,  while  color  and  incidents  were  skilfully 
blended  with  it,  as  though  endowed  with  independ- 
ent existence.  Many  of  the  more  attractive  shorter 
plays  belong  to  the  period  of  apprenticeship,  when 
the  ambient  was  still  novel  yet  had  fully  developed 
its  charm.  Mariana  de  sol  ("A  Morning  of  Sun- 
shine"), a  dialogue  between  an  old  lady  and  an  old 
gentleman  seated  upon  a  public  bench  in  one  of  the 
paseos  of  Madrid,  has  been  translated  into  several 
languages.  The  coincidence  that  the  old  people 
turn  out  to  have  been  lovers  marks  it  as  an  early 
example.  The  musical  sainete  entitled  El  Mai  de 
[xvi] 


INTRODUCTION 


amores  is  a  work  of  haunting  fascination.  Com- 
posed of  the  tritest  elements  in  all  that  pertains  to 
plot,  it  is  animated  by  the  breath  of  summer  wafted 
across  the  Andalusian  fields.  A  steady  progress  is 
discernible  through  the  bewildering  sequence  of  these 
plays  until  the  incident  and  the  atmosphere  achieve 
a  language  of  their  own  to  the  subordination  of  all 
other  elements.  Such  delicate  trifles  as  Hablando 
se  entiende  la  Genie  ("By  Their  Words  Ye  Shall 
Know  Them")  are  perfect  in  their  kind,  faultless  as 
transcriptions  of  life.  A  gentle  humor  plays  over 
the  scenes  as  though  it  were  an  emanation  of  the 
sunny  atmosphere.  It  is  indulgent,  sportive,  but 
not  critical,  at  least  in  the  active  sense.  It  is  too 
urbane  ever  to  hint  at  the  possibility  of  reform.  The 
occasion  does  not  matter;  it  is  only  natural  to  smile. 
And  life  is  so  beautiful !  It  diverts  the  mind  for  the 
moment  and  then  lingers  in  the  memory  as  an  added 
grace. 

More  than  twenty  of  the  comedies  have  been 
translated  into  Italian,  while  several  have  been  acted 
in  the  Venetian  dialect.  The  peculiar  provincial 
divisions  of  the  Italian  stage,  with  its  insistence  upon 
local  types,  prepared  the  way  for  a  favorable  re- 
ception, assuring  the  Quinteros  a  success  second 
[  xvii  ] 


INTRODUCTION 


only  to  that  enjoyed  in  their  own  country.  They 
are  highly  esteemed  in  Germany;  translations  of 
individual  plays  have  also  been  made  into  French, 
Portuguese,  and  Dutch.  The  present  volume  is  the 
first  to  be  placed  before  English  readers. 

The  study  of  an  art  which  is  of  such  accurate  de- 
tail that  it  has  passed  without  challenge  in  its  own 
country  as  a  faithful  picture  of  the  national  life, 
cannot  fail  to  be  productive  abroad  of  salutary  re- 
sults. The  Spain  of  the  foreigner  does  not  exist. 
Even  the  French,  who  might  be  presumed  to  know 
better,  see  nothing  when  they  look  across  the  Pyre- 
nees but  fictions  of  the  vintage  of  the  opera  Carmen. 
"Whenever  anything  is  written  about  Spain  in 
other  European  countries,"  says  Francos  Rodriguez, 
"recourse  is  had  at  once  to  picturesque  lying,  to  the 
grievous  impairment  of  our  good  name.  Neither 
actors  nor  authors  seem  to  think  intelligence  is 
required  in  order  to  convey  an  impression  of  Spanish 
life.  All  that  is  needed  is  to  transform  the  men  into 
bull-fighters  and  the  women  into  flamencas,  every 
woman  without  exception  carrying  a  knife  in  her 
garter.  But  this  is  not  Spain;  the  Spanish  character 
bears  absolutely  no  resemblance  to  the  grotesque 
imaginings  of  these  conscienceless  artists  who  assume 
[  xviii  ] 


INTRODUCTION 


to  depict  a  nation  by  a  display  of  braided  frogs  and 
castanets,  of  sugar-loaf  hats  and  skirts  which 
scarcely  reach  below  the  knees.  Yet  these  things 
are  universal  whether  in  books  or  upon  the  stage. 

"In  the  days  when  the  elder  Dumas  roved  over 
the  land,  liberties  were  natural  which  now  would 
arouse  laughter.  Communication  was  difficult  in 
that  age,  and  authors  who  had  a  weakness  for  betray- 
ing truth  were  able  to  commit  their  infidelities  with- 
out fear  that  the  deception  would  be  detected  in 
short  order. 

"In  these  times,  however,  when  Spain  is  taking  an 
active  part  in  the  commerce  of  the  world  and  her  life 
may  be  studied  freely  in  the  thousand  aspects  of  a 
complex  civilization,  further  to  persist  in  the  scur- 
rilous practise  of  considering  us  a  people  who  jangle 
the  tambourine,  is  a  species  of  insult  which  it  is  in- 
cumbent upon  us  to  resent.  .  .  . 

"We  need  only  turn  the  pages  of  Sardou's  "Sor- 
ceress" to  learn  the  spirit  in  which  this  illustrious 
author  approached  his  task.  He  enumerates  the 
characters  of  the  play  and  includes  in  the  list  one 
Cardenos  (a  name  that  means  nothing),  an  execu- 
tioner called  Torillo  (the  toro,  here  come  the  bulls !) , 
a  Rioubos,  which  is  about  as  Spanish  as  if  the  sky 
[xix] 


INTRODUCTION 


were  to  rain  cabbages,  a  person  known  as  Afrida, 
whose  status  is  no  better,  and  a  Dona  Joana — 
enough  to  rend  the  stoutest  heart. 

"A  Moorish  woman  appears  who  is  dubbed  Fa- 
toum(?).  Turning  to  Joana  in  full  sixteenth  century 
she  exclaims :  '  My  dear,  Senorita  ! '  '  Senorita  ! ' — 
as  life-like,  if  you  please,  as  any  maid-servant  of  our 
own  day  politely  addressing  her  mistress. 

"The  character  Rufina,  who  arrives  at  Toledo 
direct  from  Aranjuez,  belongs  to  the  same  epoch, 
just  as  if  that  royal  palace  had  been  in  existence  at 
the  period  in  which  the  drama  is  laid.  The  fact  is 
that  Aranjuez  had  a  Spanish  sound  in  Sardou's  ear; 
he  laid  hands  on  the  name  to  give  color  to  his  play. 

"Color,  do  we  say?  One  of  the  master  strokes  of 
The  "Sorceress"  occurs  in  a  scene  in  the  third  act, 
which  is  wonderful!  Enrique  solicits  the  love  of 
Zoraya,  and  when  the  couple  are  in  transports,  the 
blows  of  a  halberd  are  heard  in  the  street.  Whose 
halberd?  Some  soldier's?  No,  the  night  watch- 
man's— the  serene's !  Sardou  hales  our  modest, 
kindly  sereno,  the  vigilant  guardian  of  our  modern 
Spanish  cities,  back  to  the  year  1507.  .  .  . 

"However,  Sardou  is  by  no  means  alone.  As 
great  a  poet  as  Catulle  Mendes  has  taken  refuge 
[xx] 


INTRODUCTION 


in  his  imagination,  interspersing  his  Vierge  d'Avila 
with  grotesque  details  which  give  evidence  of  an 
ignorance  which  is  unbelievable. 

"In  the  play  in  question,  two  noblemen  of  Avila 
appear,  by  name  Don  Tomasso  Farges  and  Don 
Hernandez  Ervann.  One  of  the  women  is  called 
Ximeira  and  another  female  character  'Una  Pe- 
lleja'.  .  .  . 

"  By  splendid  anticipation  a  sale  of  reserved  seats 
for  a  bull-fight  takes  place  in  the  reign  of  Philip  II. 
.  .  .  Bull-fights  in  the  reign  of  the  builder  of  the 
Escorial !  What  an  invitation  to  mirth ! 

"If  Spaniards  would  protest  whenever  possible 
against  actors  and  authors  who  indulge  in  this  species 
of  falsehood,  greater  care  would  be  exercised  by 
those  who  make  a  business  of  misrepresenting  our 
land  as  a  place  in  which  people  wear  hats  with  their 
brims  turned  up  and  clack  castanets.  Persons  who 
have  no  other  title  to  trade  upon  our  good  name 
than  a  proclivity  for  picturesque  lying,  had  better 
write  about  their  own  country  and  forge  whatever 
inventions  their  countrymen  may  find  agreeable  at 
its  expense,  in  which  case  the  sphere  of  their  activi- 
ties will  be  restricted  indeed." 

JOHN  GARRETT  UNDERBILL. 
[xxi] 


Let  thi»  mountain  maid 
Be  remade  again. 
Like  the  bells  remade. 

— POPULAR  SONG 


First  presented  by  the  CompafLla  Guerrero- Mendoza,  at  the 
Teatro  de  la  Princesa,  Madrid,  on  the  sixth  of  April,  1912. 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 

Malvaloca  MAIUA  GUERRERO 

Juanela  CONCHITA  Ruiz 

Mariquita  JOSEFINA  BLANCO 

Sister  Piedad  CARMEN  JIMENEZ 

Teresona  MARIA  CANCIO 

Alfonso,  MARIA  VALENTIN 

Dona  Enriqueta  ELENA  SALVADOR 

Dionisia  AURORA  LE-BRET 

Sister  Consuelo  LUISA  GARCIA 

Sister  Dolores  CONSUELO  LEON 

Sister  Carmen  ENRIQUETA  LIQUINANO 
Leonardo                      FERNANDO  DIAZ  DE  MENDOZA 

Salvador  EMILIO  THUILLIER 

Martin  the  Blindman  EMILIO  MESEJO 

Barrabas  FELIPE  CARS! 

Tio  Jeromo  MANUEL  DIAZ 

Lobito  FERNANDO  MONTENEGRO 

A  Workman  SALVADOR  COVISA 

[  xxvii  ] 


MALVALOCA 
flct  3 


ACT  I 

In  Las  Canter  as,  an  Andalusian  village,  there  is  a 
convent  of  remote  date,  which  is  known  by  the 
name  of  "  The  Convent  of  Carmen"  When  the 
last  of  the  nuns  devoted  to  the  Divine  Love  passed 
to  a  better  life  (she  was  a  very  old  woman),  the 
Sisters  of  Charity  came  to  inhabit  the  ancient  pre- 
cincts. They  are  an  order  similar  to  that  of  the 
Sisters  of  the  Poor. 

At  the  time  when  the  action  of  this  play  begins, 
there  are  in  the  convent,  or  home,  six  old  people 
for  whom  the  Sisters  care  with  extreme  solicitude 
and  kindness. 

The  first  act  takes  place  in  one  of  the  corridors,  or 
galleries,  of  the  cloister  through  whose  tall  arches 
may  be  seen,  upstage,  the  whole  side  of  what  was 
once  a  garden,  now  almost  entirely  converted 
into  an  orchard  containing  more  trees  than  flower 
beds.  At  the  right  of  the  actor,  the  corridor  ends  at 
a  wall  in  which  there  is  a  large  door,  called  the 
[3] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


"Gateway  of  the  Cross,"  because  above  it,  fastened  to 
the  wall,  there  is  a  wooden  cross.  In  the  wall  fa 
self,  as  high  as  one  can  reach,  and  on  a  rough 
pedestal,  there  is  a  small  image  of  St.  Anthony. 
Before  it  there  is  an  earthen  jar  full  of  chick  peas. 
One  of  the  central  arches  affords  an  entrance  into 
the  garden.  In  the  corridor  there  are  two  or  three 
chairs  and  a  bench. 

It  is  morning  on  a  sunny  day  in  April. 

Enter  BARRABAS,  one  of  the  old  inmates.  He  is 
rather  small,  ill-humored  and  fretful.  He  acts  as 
caretaker  of  the  convent  garden  and  orchard,  and 
fusses  about  in  his  own  domains.  Some  distance 
upstage,  in  the  shade  of  a  tree,  SISTER  CARMEN, 
silent  and  preoccupied,  sews  tirelessly.  From 
time  to  time  the  scenes  which  take  place  about 
her  distract  her  from  her  work  for  an  instant, 
but  she  soon  fixes  her  attention  again  on  what- 
ever she  is  making.  SISTERS  DOLORES  and 
CONSUELO  enter  the  garden  from  the  left.  They 
carry  large  purses  for  the  purpose  of  collecting 
alms.  They  enter  the  corridor  through  the  middle 
archway,  and  disappear  through  the  "  Gateway  of 
the  Cross."  BARRABAS  soliloquizes  maliciously 
as  follows: 

[4] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


BARRABAS.     Here  we  go 
Two  in  a  row 
Skulking  in  the  shadows — 
Sisters  of  Charity,  you  know. 
He!  he!  My  own  verses! 

Alms  for  the  poor — 
Pray  give  us  more — 
If  it  be  silver,  you  add  to  our  store. 
Heigh! 

[Enter  from  the  Gateway  of  the  Cross,  MARTIN, 
the  blindman.  He  carries  a  stick  to  assist 
his  progress.  He  is  older  and  more  broken 
down  than  BARRABAS.  He  walks  quietly 
the  whole  length  of  the  corridor.  BARRABAS 
sees  him  and  stops  him  to  talk  with  him.] 
Good  morning! 

MARTIN.     Good   morning!     I   didn't   know   you 
were  here,  Senor  Barrabas. 

BARRABAS.     You  knew  it  perfectly  well,  Senor 
Martin. 

MARTIN.    Just  as  you  say! 

BARRABAS.     Because,  although  you  can't  see  me, 
you  can  smell. 

MARTIN.     Just  as  you  say.     Good  morning. 
BARRABAS.     Are  you  going  to  take  a  sun  bath? 
[5] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


MARTIN.     Yes,  with  Sister  Piedad's  permission. 

BARRABAS.  There  is  nothing  like  dancing  in 
attendance  to  get  favors;  but  that  doesn't  suit 
me. 

MARTIN.  Nor  me  either.  I  won't  argue  with 
you.  And,  mind,  you  have  no  right  to  criticise 
things  in  this  Home.  You  were  taken  in  here  out 
of  charity  the  same  as  I  was. 

BARRABAS.  There  is  a  difference,  my  friend.  I'm 
not  a  useless  ornament  like  you  are.  I  work  here 
in  the  garden  and  the  orchard.  I  earn  the  bread 
I  eat;  yes,  and  what  you  eat,  too! 

MARTIN.  I  don't  owe  you  anything.  I  work, 
myself. 

BARRABAS.  Perhaps  you'll  tell  me  what  you  do? 
It's  nearly  two  years  since  you  have  been  up  in 
the  bell  tower. 

MARTIN.     I  do  what  the  Sisters  tell  me  to  do. 

BARRABAS.  Since  they  never  tell  you  to  do  any- 
thing, you  live  like  a  priest. 

MARTIN.  I  tell  you  I  don't  want  to  argue  with 
you.  Good-bye. 

BARRABAS.  What  have  you  to  say  of  the  clatter 
La  Golondrina  has  been  making  lately?  A  fine  bell 
she  is! 

[6] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


MARTIN.  Everything  turns  to  poison  in  your 
mind,  Senor  Barrabas. 

BARRABAS.     That's  why  I  like  to  get  it  out. 

MARTIN  [starting  toward  him.  With  deep  and 
genuine  feeling].  La  Golondrina  is  a  bell  which 
belongs  to  this  sacred  Home;  at  present  she  is 
broken.  She  does  not  sound  as  she  used  to,  because 
God  has  willed  it  so.  But  when  these  hands  used 
to  ring  her,  La  Golondrina  sang  as  no  bell  ever 
sang  since  belfries  have  had  crosses.  You  know  that 
as  well  as  I  do,  only  you  want  to  hear  me  talk. 

BARRABAS.  Didn't  La  Sonora  of  the  Iglesia 
Mayor  have  a  better  tone? 

MARTIN.  Now  you're  talking  about  La  Sonora 
again!  Everybody  seems  to  be  crazy  in  this  town. 
To  compare  La  Sonora  with  La  Golondrina — why 
you'd  have  to  be  deaf  to  do  that ! 

BARRABAS.     Even  nowadays,  Senor  Martin? 

MARTIN.  I'm  not  talking  about  nowadays. 
How  would  you  expect  her  to  sound  after  having 
been  broken  these  three  years?  La  Sonora's  friends 
ought  to  be  happy;  yes,  sir,  very  happy.  They've 
lived  for  a  long  time  oppressed  by  the  weight  of 
La  Golondrina! 

BARRABAS.  I  dare  say  the  way  it  happened  was 
[7] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


this:  One   afternoon,   as   the   Eternal   Father   was 
walking  along  the  clouds — 

MARTIN.  Better  not  meddle  in  sacred  things,  Senor. 
BARBABAS.  He  heard  you  ringing  the  bell: 
Ding  dong,  ding  dong!  it  sounded  right  in  his  ears, 
you  know,  and  he  said:  "Well,  well,  that  bell  sounds 
too  well  to  be  in  Las  Canteras,  which  after  all  is 
only  a  village."  Then  he  told  an  angel  who  was 
taking  a  trip  through  Andalusia,  to  break  it  with  a 
blow  of  a  hammer.  He!  he!  Wasn't  that  some- 
thing like  the  way  it  happened?  God  in  Heaven 
was  envious! 

MARTIN.  You're  the  one  who  is  envious  right 
here  on  earth.  Idiot,  fool,  heretic!  I'm  going  to 
ask  the  Mother  Superior  to  forbid  you  to  talk  to 
me,  that's  all. 

[At  this  point  SISTER  PIEDAD  appears  in  the 
doorway  and  cuts  short  the  dispute.  She  is 
young  and  pretty,  humble  and  gentle.  She 
speaks  quietly  and  open-heartedly.  Her 
accent  is  not  Andalusian.] 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Quarreling  again?  You  are 
beginning  the  day  early. 

MARTIN.  This  fellow  does  nothing  but  pick  me 
to  pieces. 

[8] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  I 


BARRABAS.     Me?     I  wouldn't  do  such  dirty  work ! 

SISTER  PIED  AD.  But  you,  too,  Martin;  why 
don't  you  go  on  about  your  business? 

MARTIN.     Because  he  won't  let  me! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Why?  Does  he  set  a  trap  for 
you  as  though  you  were  a  bird? 

MARTIN.  He  says  things  to  me  which  make  it 
impossible  for  me  to  let  them  go  without  answer- 
ing. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  To  foolish  words  there  is 
always 

BARNABAS.  Do  you  mean  that  my  words  are 
foolish? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Precisely. 

BARRABAS.  Well,  the  only  thing  I  did  to  him 
to-day  was  to  wish  him  good  morning.  It's  better 
to  be  a  favorite  than  to  be  polite! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  No  one  has  any  claims  for  pref- 
erence here,  Barrabas.  Nor  do  we  try  to  cure  wits. 
The  king  no  longer  pays  fools.  I  know  your  antics 
by  heart,  and  I  also  know  what  your  dispute  was 
about.  It's  the  same  every  day. 

MARTIN.  Every  day,  Sister  Piedad!  Please  tell 
the  Mother  Superior. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Well,  who  knows  but  that  God 
[9] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


will  punish  you,  and  make  you  very  uncomfortable? 
I  mean  you,  Barrabas.     The  miracle  which  I  am 

hoping  for  is 

BARRABAS.     But  there  are  no  miracles  nowadays! 
SISTER  PIEDAD.     Hush,  Barrabas!     How  do  we 
know?     Go  on  with  your  work;  and  you,  too,  Martin. 
MARTIN.     God  be  with  you,  Sister. 

[BARRABAS  goes  into  the  garden  at  the  right 
without  replying.  MARTIN  disappears  down 
the  corridor. 

Enter  LEONARDO  from  the  left  of  the  garden. 
He  is  a  man  of  about  thirty  years,  and  of  a 
modest  and  simple  appearance.  His  face 
is  somewhat  sunburned.  His  glance  is 
penetrating  and  curious.  He  carries  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  showing  a  head  well  covered 
with  thick,  abundant  hair.  His  whole  person 
has  an  appearance  of  strong,  manly  energy 
which  makes  him  very  likable. 
SISTER  PIEDAD  sees  him  coming,  and  awaits 

him,  smiling  sweetly.] 
SISTER  PIEDAD.     Good  morning,  Sefior. 
LEONARDO.     Good  morning,  Sister. 
SISTER   PIEDAD.     You   have   come   to  see  your 
friend,  have  you  not? 

[10] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


LEONARDO.  To  stay  with  him  awhile.  I  have 
nothing  important  to  do  down  below  in  the  town 
for  the  moment. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  He  was  here  only  half  an  hour 
ago.  He  is  probably  inside  talking  with  some  of 
the  inmates.  He  has  such  a  pleasant  way  with 
them,  and  he  loves  to  chat. 

LEONARDO.  With  them,  and  with  everybody. 
He  has  a  word  for  every  one  he  meets.  He  doesn't 
know  how  to  keep  still.  Really  what  he  says  is 
fascinating  and  his  words  are  like  honey.  He  has 
begun  talking  of  you  now,  and  of  this  place,  most 
interminably. 

SISTER  PIEDAD  [playfully].  Indeed?  Well,  I 
warn  you,  we  are  very  much  interested  in  him.  It 
is  just  possible  that  we  may  ask  him  to  show  his 
gratitude  in  some  way. 

LEONARDO.  If  there  is  anything  /  can  do.  .  .  . 
I  don't  know  about  him. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  We  three  will  talk  it  over  to- 
gether. I'm  going  in  to  look  for  him.  Perhaps  he 
is  with  Don  Jacinto. 

LEONARDO.     The  priest? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  No,  Seiior;.one  of  the  inmates 
who  is  also  called  Don  Jacinto.  Haven't  you  no- 
fill 


Act  1  MALVALOCA 


ticed  a  very  handsome,  elderly  gentleman,  who  is 
almost  always  alone? 

LEONARDO.  Oh,  yes!  Now  I  know  whom  you 
mean. 

SISTEE  PIEDAD.  He  comes  of  an  important  family 
in  Seville,  who  have  come  here  to  die.  None  of  us 
can  ever  tell  what  our  end  will  be.  Of  course 
we  care  for  them  all  with  great  love  and  kindness — 
and  we  have  to  add  courtesy  in  his  case.  Every- 
thing humiliates  and  distresses  him  so.  He  has 
found  a  great  comrade  in  your  friend. 

LEONARDO.  What  a  sad  story!  Do  these  things 
happen  frequently? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Yes,  Senor,  in  the  larger  Homes. 
But  we  mostly  have  people  from  poor  families.  Now 
and  then  we  have  an  inmate  who  saves  something 
from  whatever  we  give  him  to  eat  in  order  to  give 
it  to  his  relatives  when  they  come  to  visit  him. 

LEONARDO.     Very  interesting. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  I  shall  let  your  friend  know  that 
you  are  here. 

LEONARDO.     No;  let  me  go,  Sister. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  No,  indeed!  Pray  be  seated. 
He'll  be  with  you  in  a  moment. 

[She  goes  out  through  the  garden  to  the  right. 
[12] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  I 


LEONARDO  walks  about  for  a  moment  in 
silence.  Soon  he  notices  the  figure  of  St. 
Anthony.  BARRABAS,  who  has  again  en- 
tered, watches  his  chance  to  talk  with  the 
newcomer.] 

LEONARDO.  What  foolishness!  The  Saint  has 
peas  to-day.  It  was  oil  and  vinegar  yesterday.  I 
can't  understand  it. 

BARRABAS.  Are  you  looking  into  San  Antonio's 
jar? 

LEONARDO.     Eh?    Oh,  yes! 

BARRABAS.     Don't  you  know  what  it  is  all  about? 
LEONARDO.     No.     And  ever  since  I  came  here, 
I  have  been  wondering  about  it,  but  I  never  felt 
like  asking  anybody. 

BARRABAS.     Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is, 
and  you  won't  have  to  ask  me.     He!  he! 
LEONARDO.     Good ! 

BARRABAS.  Well,  since  this  Home  lives  by 
charity,  whenever  the  Sister  who  is  in  charge  of 
the  supplies  notices  that  they  need  anything,  she 
puts  a  little  of  whatever  they  need  in  San  Antonio's 
jar.  Along  comes  some  charitable  person,  takes  a 
peep  at  the  Saint's  jar,  notices  the  peas,  or  what- 
ever it  happens  to  be,  and  knows  right  away  what 
[131 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


is  needed.     Then  he  or  she  orders  a  sack  or  a  bottle. 
Then  the  Sisters  say  that  San  Antonio  gets  it. 

LEONARDO.     Ah ! 

BARRABAS.     And  San  Antonio  has  no  more  to 
do  with  the  peas,  or  the  oil,  than  you  or  me ! 

LEONARDO.     Of  course  not. 

BARRABAS.     That's    the    way    miracles    happen 
nowadays.     I  could  tell  you  a  lot  more — 

LEONARDO.     No,  I  don't  wish  to  hear  any  more. 

BARRABAS.     Why,  in  this  Home — 

LEONARDO.    That  will  do— that  will  do,  thank  you. 

BARRABAS.     I  don't  believe  you — 

[LEONARDO   sits   down  and  begins  to  smoke. 
BARRABAS  approaches  him  with  a  smile.] 
Would  you  give  me  a  cigarette,  Senor? 

LEONARDO      [good-naturedly].     Yes     .     .     .     yes, 
indeed.     Take  two  of  them  if  you  wish. 

BARRABAS.  I  do  wish,  and  thanks  very  much. 
Tobacco  is  the  only  thing  which  recalls  other  days 
to  us  here.  And  it  is  the  only  thing  that  San  Antonio 
never  sends  for!  He's  not  much  of  a  smoker.  We 
have  to  be  satisfied  with  the  thin  cigarettes  which 
the  Sisters  provide  for  us!  [LEONARDO  smiles.] 
That's  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  you  smile  in  my  life. 
I  don't  suppose  you  have  stomach  trouble? 
[14] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


LEONARDO.  No. 

BARRABAS.  You  and  Don  Salvador  are  very 
different. 

LEONARDO.  That  will  do  ...  that  will  do; 
no  more,  thank  you. 

BARRABAS.  I  don't  believe  you.  [He  turns  to- 
ward the  garden  re-rolling  the  cigarette  which  he  is 
about  to  smoke.  Soon  he  exclaims  as  he  glances  to 
the  left.]  WTho  is  this  little  dove  coming?  We  don't 
often  see  a  sight  like  that  in  this  place! 

[MALVALOCA  enters.  She  stops  an  instant 
in  the  middle  of  the  garden  and  looks  about 
her  as  if  uncertain  which  way  to  go.  Upon 
catching  sight  of  LEONARDO  in  the  corridor, 
she  goes  toward  him. 

MALVALOCA  is  pretty;  her  face  is  smiling 
and  communicative;  her  body  active  and 
graceful.  She  is  clearly  of  the  proletariat. 
Her  black  hair  is  short  and  curly.  It  seems 
blown  about  by  the  breeze  with  every  nervous 
movement  of  her  head,  which  is  full  of  all 
sorts  of  fanciful  nonsense.  These  quick 
movements  of  her  head  are  birdlike.  She 
wears  a  smooth,  plain-colored  dress,  a  white 
waist,  black  buckled  shoes,  and  a  small  shawl 
[15] 


Act  1  MALVALOCA 


of  black  silk  thrown  across  her  shoulders. 
Her  eardrops,  rings,  and  bracelets  are  very 
costly,  and  in  striking  contrast  with  the 
simplicity  of  her  dress. 

When  LEONARDO  sees  her  coming,  he  gets 
up,  somewhat  startled.  BARRABAS  draws 
near  SISTER  CARMEN  as  though  to  comment 
upon  the  visitor.  A  moment  later  he  moves 

off-} 

MALVALOCA.     Good  morning. 

LEONARDO.     Good  morning. 

MALVALOCA.  Is  this  the  Home  kept  by  the  Sisters 
of  Charity? 

LEONARDO.     It  is. 

MALVALOCA.  Thanks.  I  saw  the  gate  open  so 
I  walked  in;  but  when  I  got  into  the  garden  I  was 
afraid  I  was  in  the  wrong  place. 

LEONARDO.     Well,  this  is  the  Home. 

MALVALOCA.  Oh,  yes!  I  see  a  nun  over  there 
And — could  you  tell  me ? 

LEONARDO.     What? 

MALVALOCA.  Is  it  here  they  are  taking  care  of 
a  man  who  was  hurt? 

LEONARDO.     Yes. 

MALVALOCA.     You  know  the  man  I  mean? 
[16] 


MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.     Is  it  Salvador  Garcia? 

MALVALOCA.  Yes,  of  course,  Salvador  Garcia. 
How  is  he? 

LEONARDO.     Almost  well  now. 

MALVALOCA.  He  is?  But  was  he  dangerously 
ill? 

LEONARDO.  I  wouldn't  say  dangerously  so,  but 
he  suffered  enough.  His  burns  were  horrible,  and 
the  treatment  was  heroic. 

MALVALOCA.  It  got  about  in  Seville  that  he 
burned  himself  in  a  furnace. 

LEONARDO.     Great  heavens ! 

MALVALOCA.  Gossip — just  talk,  wasn't  it?  Some 
one  told  me  about  it.  Who  was  it?  Oh!  that  pug- 
nosed  Matilda!  She  never  could  bear  him. 

LEONARDO.     Have  you  just  come  from  Seville? 

MALVALOCA.  Just  this  minute.  All  I  did  was 
to  fix  up  a  bit  and  look  for  the  Home.  I  came  to 
get  at  the  truth,  so  as  not  to  leave  any  doubt  in  my 
mind.  I  wanted  to  see  him. 

LEONARDO.     You  must  be  a  great  friend  of  his. 

MALVALOCA.     Uh! 

[This  "Uh"  of  MALVALOCA'S  is  a  sort  of  a 
little  trill.     She  always  uses  it  with  an  exagger- 
ated inflection  and  a  humorous  gesture,  when 
[17] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


she  is  not  sure  of  expressing  in  words  what 
she  imshes  to  say.  Her  imagination  puts  a 
world  of  meaning  into  each  "  Uh."] 

LEONARDO.     A  very  great  friend,  eh? 

MALVALOCA.  I'm  still  his  friend.  I  have  been 
a  tiny  bit  more  than  that,  but  that's  a  thing  of  the 
past,  now. 

LEONARDO.     Except  the  friendship,  of  course. 

MALVALOCA.     Are  you  Salvador's  friend,  too? 

LEONARDO.     Something  more  than  a  friend. 

MALVALOCA.     How's  that? 

LEONARDO.  We  are  partners  in  the  foundry  busi- 
ness. 

MALVALOCA.     What  foundry? 

LEONARDO.  The  brass  foundry  in  which  the  ac- 
cident occurred.  Didn't  you  hear  about  it? 

MALVALOCA.  It's  been  more  than  two  years 
since  I've  seen  him;  but  now  I'm  thinking.  .  .  . 
Who  was  it  told  me  that  Salvador  was  mixed  up 
with  kettles  and  things? 

LEONARDO  [smiling].  Probably  the  information 
came  from  the  same  source  as  the  other. 

MALVALOCA.  No,  it  wasn't  the  Pug-nose.  But 
what  difference  does  it  make  who  it  was?  So  you 

and  Salvador  are ? 

[18] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


LEONARDO.     Partners. 

MALVALOCA.     Both  of  you? 

LEONARDO.     Naturally. 

MALVALOCA.     Since  when? 

LEONARDO.  Since  not  very  long  ago.  Although 
our  friendship  is  very  recent,  we  are  already  very 
intimate. 

MALVALOCA.     Salvador  is  very  attractive. 

LEONARDO.     Very. 

MALVALOCA.  He  kind  of  fascinates  people,  don't 
you  think? 

LEONARDO.     He  has  fascinated  me  at  any  rate. 

MALVALOCA.  He  does  that  to  every  one  he  meets. 
Sympathy  is  what  counts  in  this  world. 

LEONARDO.     Do  you  think  so? 

MALVALOCA.  I'm  sure  of  it.  Real  love  is  noth- 
ing more  than  sympathy,  a  sympathy  so  great — so 
big — that  you  don't  know  how  to  live  without  the 
person  who  gives  it  to  you. 

LEONARDO.     Perhaps. 

MALVALOCA.  Call  it  what  you  will:  love,  friend- 
ship, affection,  take  your  choice.  Look  at  it 
closely  and  you  have — sympathy.  Don't  you  sup- 
pose that  thieves  love  each  other  more  than  fools 
do?  Why  is  it?  Because  thieves  are  always  more 
[19] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


fascinating — more  sympathetic.  Why — now  don't 
you  be  afraid  of  me! 

LEONARDO.     Well,  you  may  be  right. 

MALVALOCA.  How  did  you  happen  to  fall  in 
with  this  rascal? 

LEONARDO.  You  just  gave  the  reason :  sympathy, 
fellow  feeling.  We  were  traveling  together;  we 
happened  on  this  abandoned  foundry  in  the  village; 
and  we  decided  to  try  our  luck.  We  both  liked  the 
same  things.  The  foundry  used  to  be  called  "Suc- 
cessors to — somebody  or  other,"  but  Salvador  has 
christened  it  with  the  high-sounding  name  of  "La 
Nina  de  Bronce." 

MALVALOCA.  Ah!  "La  Nina  de  Bronce!"  I 
know  why. 

LEONARDO.     Did  he  name  it  after  you? 

MALVALOCA.  No,  Senor;  after  another  woman — 
the  hussy!  But  where  is  he?  I  want  to  see  him. 

LEONARDO.     I  expect  him  here  now. 

MALVALOCA.     You  expect  him  here? 

LEONARDO.  Yes.  One  of  the  Sisters  has  gone 
in  to  tell  him  of  my  arrival. 

MALVALOCA.  I  feel  like  giving  him  a  good  hug, 
poor  boy.  He's  a  great  rascal,  you  know,  but  at 
the  same  time,  he's  very  much  of  a  gentleman.  He's 
[201 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


always  behaved  very  well  toward  me.  I  never 
knocked  once  at  his  door  without  his  answering. 
I'm  sure  I  shall  never  die  in  a  hospital  while  he's 
alive.  Is  that  San  Antonio?  He  has  a  face  like  a 
musician.  What's  he  peddling — peas?  Tell  me, 
were  you  in  the  foundry  when  the  accident  happened  ? 

LEONARDO.     Certainly. 

MALVALOCA.  How  did  it  happen?  How  did  it 
happen?  Would  you  mind  telling  me? 

LEONARDO.  Not  in  the  least.  We  were  going 
to  cast  a  figure  for  a  new  fountain  in  Los  Alcazares, 
a  neighboring  village 

MALVALOCA.  I  know  the  place.  It  never  rains 
there.  Phew ! 

LEONARDO.  The  mould  for  the  figure  which  we 
were  going  to  cast  was  already  covered  up  in  the 
ground.  Then  we  were  about  to  pour  the  molten 
bronze  from  the  crucibles  into  a  hole  which  was 
left  in  the  surface. 

MALVALOCA.     From  the  what? 

LEONARDO.  From  the  crucibles.  Crucibles  are 
great  jars  which  are  capable  of  resisting  the  highest 
temperatures  without  cracking  or  breaking.  In 
these,  when  they  are  put  into  the  furnaces,  the  hard- 
est bronze  is  converted  into  a  liquid  fire. 
[21] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  So  you  could  stick  your  finger  into 
it! 

LEONARDO.  Then,  as  I  was  telling  you,  it  passes 
from  the  furnace  into  the  ground  where  the  mould 
of  whatever  we  are  casting  is  buried.  It  was  in  this 
step  that  the  accident  happened  to  Salvador. 

MALVALOCA.     Yes? 

LEONARDO.  Yes.  We  were  carrying  the  crucible 
from  the  furnace  with  what  we  call  "hand  carriers." 
If  the  crucible  is  a  large  one,  it  sometimes  takes  from 
four  to  six  men  to  carry  it,  and  to  make  the  casting. 
Salvador  was  one  of  these  men.  Very  well;  when 
they  came  to  pour  the  liquid  through  the  spout  into 
the  mould,  one  of  the  men  slipped.  This  caused 
some  of  the  liquid  to  be  spilled,  and  it  spattered 
on  Salvador's  breast  and  arm  and  leg. 

MALVALOCA.     Phew! 

LEONARDO.  If  he  had  given  way  to  the  pain, 
and  had  let  all  of  the  liquid  fire  spill  and  scatter,  it 
might  have  burned  some  man  to  death.  Salvador 
made  a  heroic  effort  and  shouted:  "Cast!"  The 
others  obeyed  him  and  poured  the  moulten  stuff 
into  the  ground.  When  there  wrasn't  a  drop  in 
the  crucible,  he  dropped  the  handle  and  fell  into  my 
arms  in  a  dead  faint. 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


MALVALOCA.     Poor  fellow! 

LEONARDO.  Two  Sisters  from  this  Home  had 
stopped  at  the  shops  to  ask  for  alms.  They  were 
overcome  and  greatly  affected  by  the  scene,  and 
insisted  that  we  carry  him  here,  it  being  but  a  step 
from  the  foundry.  So  here  we  brought  him,  here 
he  stayed,  and  here  he  will  remain. 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  he  certainly  must  have  had 
a  hard  time  of  it.  He's  not  very  tough.  Pinch 
him  ever  so  little,  and  it  will  hurt  him.  Why  do 
you  suppose  he  isn't  here  yet? 

LEONARDO.  I  don't  know.  It  surely  is  late. 
Perhaps  the  doctor  has  come. 

MALVALOCA.  Is  he  a  good  doctor?  A  good 
veterinary  is  the  best  they  have  in  most  of  these 
villages. 

LEONARDO.  He  must  be  a  good  one.  He's 
brought  Salvador  out  of  it  in  a  hurry.  I'll  go  see 
what  the  trouble  is,  and  tell  him  that  you  are  here. 

MALVALOCA.     If  you  would  be  so  kind. 

LEONARDO.  It's  a  very  great  pleasure.  [He 
starts  to  go,  but  turns  back.]  Who  shall  I  say  is  wait- 
ing for  him?  I  don't  know  your 

MALVALOCA.  To  be  sure!  Tell  him — tell  him 
that  Malvaloca  is  here. 

[231 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.     Malvaloca? 

MALVALOCA.  Does  that  name  sound  queer  to 
you? 

LEONARDO.     No.     But  it  surprises  me. 

MALVALOCA.  That's  what  I  have  always  been 
called  since  I  was  thirteen.  My  name  is  Rosa,  at 
your  service. 

LEONARDO.     Thanks  very  much. 

MALVALOCA.  But  you  say  "Malvaloca"  to 
Salvador.  Would  you  like  to  know  why  they  call 
me  Malvaloca? 

LEONARDO.     Why  do  they? 

MALVALOCA.  I  was  born  in  Malaga  in  a  little 
house  which  had  a  flower  box  in  the  doorway.  There 
was  a  little  flower  in  the  box  called  malvaloca. 
And  people  knew  the  house  by  the  malvaloca.  So 
far,  so  good;  but  the  malvaloca  died.  Since  every- 
body knew  my  house  as  the  house  where  the  mal- 
valoca grew,  and  since  the  flower  was  no  longer 
there,  why,  I  became  the  Malvaloca!  So,  instead 
of  there  being  a  flower  on  the  doorstep,  there  was  a 
little  girl,  inside.  You  see  how  simple  it  all  is. 
Only  it  has  to  be  explained,  that's  all. 

LEONARDO  [in  a  peculiarly  impressed  frame  of  mind 
which  partly  confirms  the  theory  of  sympathy  espoused 
[24] 


MALVALOCA  Act  i 


by   the   engaging   MALVALOCA].     I'm   going   to   tell 
Salvador  you  are  here. 

[Goes  out  through  the  garden,  to  the  right. 
MALVALOCA  [when  alone].  That  man  is  attractive, 
too.  [Looking  toward  the  door.]  Who  is  this  little 
old  woman  coming?  She  must  be  one  of  the  in- 
mates. But  how  small  she  is!  Why,  it  doesn't 
seem  possible !  She  looks  like  a  little  wax  figure. 

[Enter  MARIQUITA,  proceeding  in  the  opposite 
direction  down  the  corridor.  MALVALOCA 
watches  her  as  though  enthralled.  She  is  an 
old  woman  almost  small  enough  to  fit  into 
San  Antonio's  jar  of  peas.] 

MARIQUITA  [as  she  passes  in  front  of  MALVALOCA]. 
God  keep. you,  sister. 

MALVALOCA.     God  be  with  you,  little  sister. 
MARIQUITA.     May  you  always  keep  well. 
MALVALOCA.     Are  you  one  of  the  inmates  of  the 
Home? 

MARIQUITA  [stops].     Yes,  Sefiorita. 
MALVALOCA.     Have  you  been  here  long? 
MARIQUITA.     Four  years.     Ever  since  I  lost  my 
son  who  was  killed  by  the  Moors. 

MALVALOCA.     Your  son  was  killed  in  the  wars? 
MARIQUITA.     The  only  one  I  had. 
[25] 


Act  1  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  What  a  shame !  [MARIQUITA  makes 
a  gesture  of  grief  and  resignation.}  Are  there  many 
of  you  old  people  in  the  Home? 

MARIQUITA.  Six,  at  present.  Two  women  and 
four  men. 

MALVALOCA.     This  was  a  convent  once,  wasn't  it? 
•  MARIQUITA.     Yes,     Senorita,     the    Convent    of 
Carmen.     When  the  last  nun  died,  the  Sisters  of 
Charity  came  here  to  live. 

MALVALOCA.  Ah!  Tell  me,  little  sister,  do  they 
receive  alms? 

MARIQUITA.  It's  this  way:  they  live  by  charity, 
and  we  live  by  their  charity. 

MALVALOCA.  Here,  take  this.  [She  takes  a 
silver  dollar  from  her  purse  and  gives  it  to  her.] 

MARIQUITA  [astonished].     What's  this? 

MALVALOCA.     A  dollar. 

MARIQUITA.     But  I  can't  change  it  for  you; 

MALVALOCA.     It  is  for  you,  little  sister. 

MARIQUITA.     For  me? 

MALVALOCA  [banteringly].  To  buy  a  new  nat 
with! 

MARIQUITA  [smiling  through  her  tears].  A  hat — 
for  me! 

MALVALOCA.     Or  whatever  else  you  may  need. 
[26] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


MARIQUITA.     A  petticoat! 

MALVALOCA.     As  you  like,  sister. 

MARIQUITA.     Are  you  rich? 

MALVALOCA.     Huh! 

MARIQUITA.  They  don't  give  such  big  gifts  in 
the  streets.  Two  Sisters  leave  here  every  day  to 
ask  for  alms,  and  you  should  see  how  little  they 
pick  up!  And  listen  to  this:  last  Saturday  a  man 
even  struck  Sister  Piedad ! 

MALVALOCA.     Who  did  it? 

MARIQUITA.  A  drunken  man — how  do  I  know 
who  he  was?  She  went  into  a  house  whose  door 
was  open,  thinking  that  it  was  a  private  house;  but 
it  was  a  tavern.  But  as  she  is  very  strong-minded 
in  a  quiet  way,  she  never  stopped  at  all,  just  went 
ahead  and  begged  for  alms  for  the  poor.  And 
that  old  drunken  brute  began  to  talk  filth  to  her,  and 
then  struck  her. 

MALVALOCA.     What  did  the  Sister  do  then? 

MARIQUITA.  Well,  as  she  started  to  go,  the 
Sister  said  to  him:  "Very  well,  that  was  for  me. 
Now  give  me  something  for  the  poor." 

MALVALOCA  [struck  urith  admiration].     Ah! 

MARIQUITA.  When  the  Innkeeper  heard  her,  he 
threw  the  drunken  man  into  the  street,  and  gave  her 
[27] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


a  fine  gift.  The  next  day,  when  he  was  sober,  the 
fellow  came  and  begged  her  forgiveness.  You 
should  have  heard  Sister  Piedad!  She  knows  a 
lot  about  those  things. 

MALVALOCA.  Is  that  she  who  is  sewing  over 
there? 

MARIQUITA.  No,  Sefiorita.  Sister  Piedad  is  a 
beautiful  little  woman.  She  married  very  young, 
her  husband  died,  and  then  she  came  here;  because 
she  said  she  didn't  have  any  one  to  love  in  the  world. 
If  she  comes  out  here,  I'll  point  her  out  to  you. 

[At  this  moment,  in  the  corridor,  and  from  the 
left,  DON  SALVADOR,  LEONARDO'S  partner, 
enters.     He  is  a  man  of  about  the  same  age  as 
LEONARDO,   and  of  a  very  intelligent  and 
wideawake  appearance.     His  left  hand  rests 
in  a  silk  handkerchief  which  is  knotted  about 
his  neck.     When  he  sees  MALVALOCA,  he  is 
very  much  surprised  and  delighted.] 
SALVADOR.     Can  I  believe  my  eyes? 
MALVALOCA.     My  poor  little  boy ! 
SALVADOR.     Malraloca!     You  here?     What  does 
this  mean? 

MALVALOCA.  It  means  that  I  have  come  to  see 
you. 

[28] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


SALVADOR.     God  bless  you,  little  girl.     God  bless 
you. 

MALVALOCA  .     How  are  your  burns  ? 

SALVADOR.     All  well. 

MALVALOCA.     That's  better.     I've  brought  you 
good  luck. 

SALVADOR.     You  always  do.     Sit  down  a  while. 

MALVALOCA.     No,  I  can't. 

MARIQUITA.     Are  you  in  love  with  him? 

SALVADOR.     She  was,   but  she  left  me  for  an- 
other. 

MALVALOCA  [to  MARIQUITA].     Tell  him  he  lies. 

SALVADOR  [to  MARIQUITA].     Do  you  like  her? 

MARIQUITA.    She  is  beautiful.    And  look!    [Shows 
kirn  the  money.] 

SALVADOR.     Good  heavens! 

MARIQUITA  [laughing].     She  says  it  is  for  a  hat! 
God  bless  her. 

MALVALOCA.     Good-bye. 

[MARIQUITA  goes  on  her  way  dreaming  of  the 
petticoat  which  she  is  to  buy.] 

SALVADOR  [to  MALVALOCA,  with  a  satisfied  air]. 
Well,  how  about  it? 

MALVALOCA.     Man,  but  I'm  glad  to  see  you! 

SALVADOR.     And  I  to  see  you. 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  To  think  that  at  your  age,  you'd 
be  in  a  Home  for  the  Aged! 

SALVADOR.  Time  flies.  On  the  other  hand,  you 
never  grow  old.  You're  as  pretty  as  ever. 

MALVALOCA.  It's  your  eyes,  and  because  I  just 
cleaned  up  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago.  They've  al- 
ready told  me  how  you  acted  the  day  of  the  acci- 
dent. How  brave  you  were ! 

SALVADOR.     Who  told  you  all  that? 

MALVALOCA.     Your  friend. 

SALVADOR.     What  friend? 

MALVALOCA.     Your  partner. 

SALVADOR.     Is  he  here? 

MALVALOCA.  Well !  He  went  to  look  for  you,  and 
a  Sister  went  in  before  him.  Where  have  you  been? 

SALVADOR.  In  the  tower.  Have  you  been  talk- 
ing to  Leonardo  much? 

MALVALOCA.     To  whom? 

SALVADOR.     To  my  partner,  Leonardo. 

MALVALOCA.  Oh,  so  that's  his  name?  Well, 
from  the  way  Leonardo  looks  at  you,  you  would 
think  he  was  going  to  take  your  picture.  He's  a 
man  of  rare  importance,  isn't  he? 

SALVADOR.  Yes,  indeed.  And  what  is  more,  he 
is  a  splendid  fellow. 

[30] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  I 


MALVALOCA.  How  does  he  come  to  be  a  friend 
of  yours,  then? 

SALVADOR.     The  meeting  of  two  extremes. 

MALVALOCA.     Extremes? 

SALVADOR.  Yes,  Leonardo  has  the  trait  which  I 
should  most  like  to  have — determination.  He  is 
very  unusual.  He  does  whatever  he  pleases.  You 
have  to  know  how  to  get  along  with  him,  however. 
Well,  to  show  y'ou  the  kind  of  a  man  he  is:  he  could 
have  lived  quietly  and  pleasantly  at  home  with  his 
father,  who  also  had  a  foundry.  But  his  father, 
who  was  a  widower,  wished  to  marry  again.  Leon- 
ardo gave  him  to  understand  that  neither  he  nor 
his  sister  wanted  another  mother.  So  he  spent 
that  night  at  home,  but  left  early  the  next  morning. 
He  found  a  place  for  his  sister  with  an  aunt  and 
uncle  of  his  who  had  no  children,  and  then  he  went 
out  into  the  world  to  seek  his  fortune. 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  that  shows  that  he  is  a  man 
with  some  feeling. 

SALVADOR.  He  is.  He's  as  strong  and  unbending 
as  bronze. 

MALVALOCA.  Does  his  sister  live  with  him 
now? 

SALVADOR.  No,  she  is  still  with  her  aunt  and 
[31] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


uncle.     But  she  is  coming  to  visit  Leonardo  soon, 
for  a  few  days. 

MALVALOCA.     He  isn't  an  Andaiusian,  is  he? 

SALVADOR.     No.    He  came  from  Asturias. 

MALVALOCA.  How  do  you  suppose  he  ever  hap- 
pened to  be  born  so  far  away? 

SALVADOR.  How  do  I  know?  But,  little  girl, 
I'm  glad  you  came. 

MALVALOCA.  Will  you  be  sensible?  Wouldn't 
you  have  done  the  same?  You  know  how  I  am. 
A  friend  of  mine  asked  me  if  I  had  heard  about 
your  having  been  toasted  like — like  San  Lorenzo, 
and  I  just  packed  up  and  came!  You  know  me — 
sometimes  I  think  there  is  nothing  but  heart  in  my 
head. 

SALVADOR.     In  your  head? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes,  don't  you  think  so? 

SALVADOR.  Why,  yes,  naturally;  you  haven't 
much  else  there! 

MALVALOCA.  That's  why  I  never  have  head- 
aches. 

SALVADOR.  What  have  you  where  your  heart 
should  be? 

MALVALOCA.     Oh,  something  with  a  fence  around 
it,  and  a  dog  to  keep  people  out! 
I  32] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  1 


SALVADOR.     Why,  I  heard  that  a  German 

MALVALOCA.  Come,  you  know  I  never  take  beer 
in  the  summer. 

SALVADOR.     Are  you  still  living  in  Seville? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes,  just  at  present. 

SALVADOR.     And  your  mother? 

MALVALOCA.     Is  in  Sestona. 

SALVADOR  [laughing].     Sestona! 

MALVALOCA.  Don't  laugh.  It's  either  Sestona,  or 
Fitero,  or  Vichy.  She's  always  the  same.  If  I  have 
money,  it's  "My  darling  child,  my  own  flesh  and 
blood,  joy  of  my  old  age" — all  that  kind  of  non- 
sense. But,  if  I'm  poor,  she  snatches  two  or  three 
of  my  shawls,  pawns  them,  and  takes  the  train  for 
some  kind  of  fashionable  Baths.  I  never  saw  a 
woman  who  could  drink  so  much  of  so  many  kinds 
of  water.  [SALVADOR  laughs  outright.]  Why,  she 
is  just  puffed  up  with  it! 

SALVADOR.     And  your  father? 

MALVALOCA.  He's  a  different  sort.  He  doesn't 
drink  water;  he  drinks  by  the  barrel!  Oh — I  don't 
like  to  talk  of  my  family.  Heavens!  If  they  had 
turned  me  out  as  ugly  as  I  am  pretty,  I'd  be  for 
throwing  them  into  one  of  your  crucibles. 

SALVADOR.     You're  just  your  old  self. 
[33] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  Oh!  let's  drop  them,  poor  things. 
How  about  your  father,  is  he  in  the  village? 

SALVADOR.     Yes,  still  there. 

MALVALOCA.     Busy  with  his  photography? 

SALVADOR.  And  with  a  little  shop  where  he  sells 
frames,  which  have  been  on  his  hands  for  about  a 
year  now.  He  manages  to  keep  himself  alive. 
I  think  I  shall  pay  him  a  visit  when  I  get  well,  so  as 
to  convince  him  that  my  burns  really  amounted  to 
nothing. 

MALVALOCA.  But  they  must  have  amounted  to 
something? 

SALVADOR.     A  part  of  the  life. 

MALVALOCA.  I  know.  How  did  you  happen  to 
turn  out  such  a  rogue? 

SALVADOR.     A  rogue? 

MALVALOCA.     Foundryman.     It's  the  same. 

SALVADOR.  You  remember  I  always  had  a  taste 
for  that  sort  of  thing.  I  met  the  fellow;  we  seemed 
to  take  to  each  other  at  once;  and  nothing  more 
was  necessary.  He  has  many  illusions — I  haven't 
quite  so  many;  but  I'm  glad  he  has  them.  So  that's 
the  way  I  came  to  have  a  foundry  in  case  you  have 
need  of  one.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you? 

MALVALOCA.  You  might  make  me  two  dragons. 
[34] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


SALVADOR.    Two  dragons? 

MALVALOCA.  Yes.  One  for  a  father,  and  one 
for  a  mother! 

[They  laugh.] 

SALVADOR.  That's  the  very  first  thing  I'll  do 
when  I  get  back  to  the  shops. 

MALVALOCA.     Do  you  expect  to  be  here  long,  now? 

SALVADOR.     No,  not  much  longer. 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  then,  listen:  If  I  come 
again,  don't  tell  any  one  who  I  am. 

SALVADOR.     Why  not?    A  friend  of  mine 

MALVALOCA.     Oh!    Suit  yourself ! 

SALVADOR.  Well,  if  I  don't  tell — who  shall  I 
say  you  are? 

MALVALOCA.  The  best  thing  to  say  is  that  I 
am  English;  that  will  account  for  anything.  Here 
comes  your  partner. 

[At    this    moment    LEONARDO    and    SISTER 
PIEDAD  enter  from  urithin.] 

LEONARDO.     Here  he  is,  Sister! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     So  we  have  found  you  at  last? 

SALVADOR.     Here  I  am. 

MALVALOCA.     Good  morning. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Good  morning.     [To  SALVADOR.] 
We  have  been  looking  for  you  all  over  the  house. 
[35] 


Act  1  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.     I  just  climbed  up  into  the  bell  tower. 

MALVALOCA.    Sister,  with  your  permission 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     I'm  at  your  service. 

MALVALOCA.     Would  you  mind  telling  me  where 
the  chapel  is? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     I'll  show  it  to  you,  myself. 

MALVALOCA.     Oh,  no !  don't  bother. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     It's  no  bother,  I  assure  you. 

MALVALOCA.     Are  you  Sister  Piedad? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     And  happy  to  serve  you.     Shall 
we  go? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes.     [To  SALVADOR.]     I'll  be  back 
soon. 

SALVADOR.     Don't    you    forget    to    come    back, 
Sister  Piedad. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.    I? 

SALVADOR.    To  talk  over  that  little  matter  before 
Leonardo  goes. 

SISTER   PIEDAD.    Oh,  yes!    I'll  be  right  back. 
[To  MALVALOCA.]     This  way,  please. 

LEONARDO.    Who  is  this  woman? 

SALVADOR.     Sister  Piedad?    Why,   haven't  you 
heard 

LEONARDO.    Stop    your    joking.     I    mean    the 
other. 

[36] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


SALVADOR.  Oh,  the  other  is  spice — essence  of 
cinnamon ! 

LEONARDO.     Yes,  yes. 

SALVADOR.     They  call  her  Malvaloca. 

LEONARDO.     I  know  that. 

SALVADOR.     Then  what  do  you  want  to  know? 

LEONARDO.  Something  more  than  her  name. 
Tell  me  everything  you  know  about  her  that  I  do 
not. 

SALVADOR.  Her  history  would  make  a  rather 
long  story.  Imagine  for  yourself.  She  is  like  no 
one  else  in  the  world,  and  yet  she  is  like  a  great 
many — a  pretty  face,  a  not  very  wise  head,  and 
she  comes  from  a  house  where  they  are  very  poor. 
That  is  the  beginning  of  the  story.  I  know  a  bit 
more  in  detail  of  some  of  the  chapters. 

LEONARDO.     Has  she  been  an  affair  of  yours? 

SALVADOR.     Yes;  some  time  agq,  however. 

LEONARDO.     Well,  she  still  feels  grateful  to  you. 

SALVADOR.     Because  I  did  the  right  thing  by  her. 

LEONARDO.     Yes? 

SALVADOR.      Yes.      I  took  her  to  a  small  restau- 
rant in  Cordoba  for  luncheon,  asked  her  to  wait  a 
moment  while  I  went  for  tobacco,  and  then,  after 
two  years,  I  went  back  to  see  if  she  was  there! 
[37] 


Ad  I  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.     You  did  that? 

SALVADOR.     To  see  if  she  was  still  faithful. 

LEONARDO.     Bah!    You  never  did  it. 

SALVADOR.  Yes,  I  did  really.  That  was  the 
only  way  out  of  it.  [He  is  silent  a  moment  while 
SISTER  DOLORES  passes  down  the  corridor  from  right 
to  left.]  Malvaloca  is  the  sort  of  a  woman  who  gets 
to  one's  heart.  We  were  growing  to  be  more  and 
more  fond  of  each  other.  She  even  burst  into  tears 
two  or  three  times — and  this  having  a  woman  cry 
over  me  is  not  what  I  like.  Tears  make  a  chain 
which  is  stronger  than  any  we  make  in  the  shops. 

LEONARDO.  I  don't  understand  why  you  left 
her  if  you  cared  so  much  for  her.  And  I  under- 
stand much  less  how  she  can  endure  now  to  see  your 
face. 

SALVADOR.  I'll  tell  you.  Time  went  on — and 
things  happened  to  us — and  when  the  little  girl 
died,  I  was  the  first  to  be  at  her  side. 

LEONARDO.     Ah!    So  she  lost  a  child? 

SALVADOR.  A  little  girl  as  pretty  as  a  picture. 
She  was  four  years  old.  That  was  the  saddest 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  Malvaloca.  The  little 
girl  was  a  balm  for  all  her  troubles. 

LEONARDO.     What  a  pity! 
[881 


MALVALOCA  Ad  I 


SALVADOR.  She  has  a  great  many  troubles,  too. 
Yet  she  is  better  than  most  women  I've  met. 

LEONARDO.  That's  the  way  she  seemed  to  me. 
She  looks  good.  Deep  down  in  those  eyes  of  hers, 
the  first  light  you  see  is  Goodness. 

SALVADOR.    Do  you  know 

LEONARDO.     What? 

SALVADOR.     Nothing;  I  had  a  bad  thought. 

LEONARDO.     But  what  are  you  laughing  at? 

SALVADOR.     At  you,  probably. 

LEONARDO.     But  why  at  me? 

SALVADOR.  Well — "The  first  light  you  see  is 
Goodness!"  I  see,  and  yet  I  don't  see — foundry- 
man! 

LEONARDO.  Don't  be  a  fool.  [Suddenly  changing 
the  subject.]  What  does  Sister  Piedad  want  with  us? 

SALVADOR.  She  will  tell  us  herself  soon,  my  friend. 
We've  got  some  work  for  "La  Nina  de  Bronce." 

LEONARDO.     That's  good.     I'm  glad  of  it. 
SISTER  PIEDAD  enters  at  this  moment. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Here  I  am. 

SALVADOR.  All  right.  Now  let's  talk  about 
La  Golondrina. 

LEONARDO.     La  Golondrina? 

BISTER  PIEDAD.    That's   what  the  people  call 
[39] 


Act  J  MALVALOCA 


her,  though  her  real  name  is  Santa  Teresa.  She 
is  the  convent  bell,  and  is  broken. 

LEONARDO.  I  should  say  she  was  broken. 
Couldn't  be  anything  else.  Every  morning  and 
afternoon  I  hear  her  from  the  foundry,  and  it  sets 
my  nerves  on  edge.  It  sounds  like  the  devil! 

SISTER  PIED  AD.     The  devil? 

LEONARDO.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Sister.  I  mean 
she  couldn't  sound  worse. 

SISTER  PIED  AD.  How  would  you  expect  her  to 
sound  after  having  been  broken  for  four  years? 

LEONARDO.  Well,  she  must  be  mended.  I  wish 
everything  in  the  world  could  be  fixed  as  easily. 

SALVADOR.  Do  you  hear,  Sister?  Didn't  I  tell 
you  Leonardo  was  our  man? 

LEONARDO.  Yes,  indeed.  A  broken  bell  in  a 
building  like  this,  two  steps  from  a  foundry,  is  a 
disgrace  to  the  foundrymen. 

SALVADOR.  Without  even  taking  into  consider- 
ation the  fact  that  some  way  or  other  we  must  pay 
the  Sisters  for  the  care  they  have  taken  of  me. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.    Don't  talk  nonsense,  brother. 

We  only  did  what  God  willed  us  to  do.     But  if 

you  succeed  in  making  Santa  Teresa — La  Golon- 

drina — sing  as  she  used  to  do  through  your  skill, 

[40] 


MALVALOCA  Act  / 


lifting  her  voice  to  Heaven,  then,  from  the  Mother 
Superior  down  to  the  humblest  nun  (who  is  your 
servant),  we  will  have  neither  words  nor  deeds  good 
enough  to  repay  you. 

LEONARDO.  Well,  you  can  count  upon  its  being 
done.  Have  you  seen  the  bell,  Salvador? 

SALVADOR.   Yes.   It  is  cracked  from  top  to  bottom. 

LEONARDO.  That  is  not  strange,  if  she  had  such 
a  beautiful  tone  as  you  say. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Why  is  that? 

LEONARDO.  The  louder  and  sweeter-toned  bells 
;ire,  the  more  fragile  they  are.  The  one  we  like  to 
hear  best  is  that  which  is  broken  most  easily. 

SALVADOR.     They  are  like  women  in  that  respect. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Hush,  man,  hush!  You  are 
always  thinking  of  women. 

SALVADOR.  Bells  have  tongues,  and  that's  what 
makes  me  think  of  them. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Very  well,  but  do  stop  joking. 

LEONARDO.  In  spite  of  the  jest,  Sister  Piedad — 
and  this  chap  has  the  vice  of  joking  when  he  is  most 
serious — we  are  going  to  recast  La  Golondrina  in 
"La  Nina  de  Bronce,"  and  she  will  be  as  good  then 
as  she  ever  was. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  God  will  repay  you  for  it.  That 
[41] 


Act  1  MALVALOCA 


is  precisely  what  I  wanted  to  know;  if  she  will  be 
what  she  used  to  be — if  after  she  is  repaired  she  will 
be  the  same. 

LEONARDO.  The  very  same.  Made  of  the  same 
material,  cast  from  the  same  bronze. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Very  good.  If  she  will  be  as 
you  say — very  good.  She  is  hallowed  by  traditions, 
by  many  memories  which  are  dear. 

LEONARDO.  Well,  you  shall  see  she  will  be  the 
same  as  before.  La  Golondrina  will  take  flight, 
leave  her  tower,  enter  our  shops,  will  stay  a  few  days 
with  us,  the  fire  will  consume  her  in  order  to  give 
her  new  life,  and  then  she  will  return  to  her  nest, 
singing  better  than  she  ever  did. 

SALVADOR.  Or,  to  use  another  metaphor,  La 
Golondrina  is  a  dark  little  girl  who  is  hoarse.  She 
consults  a  couple  of  doctors,  and  upon  her  returning 
home  after  her  visit,  she  answers  with  a  voice  which 
makes  even  the  birds  pause  to  listen. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Didn't  I  tell  you?  His  mind  is 
always  on  the  same  thing.  [To  MARTIN,  who  re- 
enters.]  Martin,  did  you  hear? 

MARTIN.     What,  Sister? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  The  miracle  I  told  you  about  is 
going  to  happen. 

[42] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


MARTIN.     What  miracle? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  The  miracle  of  La  Golondrina, 
who,  thanks  be  to  God  for  putting  such  good  and 
intelligent  men  in  the  world,  is  going  to  ring  as  she 
used  to. 

MARTIN  [trembling  with  joy].  Sister!  Is  it  pos- 
sible? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  It  is  indeed.  Don  Leonardo 
and  his  friend  are  going  to  take  her  to  the  foundry 
and  are  going  to  return  her  to  us  as  good  as  new. 
Aren't  you? 

LEONARDO.     We  are. 

MARTIN.  Show  me  where  those  gentlemen  are. 
I  want  to  kiss  their  hands. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  What  you  ought  to  do  is  to 
give  thanks  to  the  Lord! 

MARTIN.     And  kiss  their  hands! 

LEONARDO.     Are  you  the  bellman? 

MARTIN.  I  am,  Seftor,  and  at  your  service. 
Don't  you  see  how  I  am  trembling? 

SALVADOR.  Martini  loves  La  Golondrina  as  though 
she  belonged  to  him. 

MARTIN.     As  though  she  were  my  very  own,  Seftor. 

SISTER   PIEDAD.     He   pulled   the   rope   the   first 
time  she  was  rung  in  this  tower. 
[431 


Act  1  MALVALOCA 


MARTIN.  I  am  the  man!  I  was  young  then. 
Since  that  time  we  have  never  been  separated.  She 
has  been  my  child,  my  sweetheart,  my  playmate — 
even  my  mother — all  in  one.  I've  always  told  her 
all  my  secrets. 

LEONARDO.  Well,  then.  I'm  all  the  more  happy 
at  what  we  are  going  to  do. 

MARTIN.  No  one  can  tell  what  it  means  to  me, 
Senor.  I  suppose  you  gentlemen  never  heard  La 
Golondrina  before  her  accident? 

LEONARDO.     I  never  did. 

SALVADOR.    Nor  I. 

SISTER    PIEDAD.     But  I  did. 

MARTIN.  Just  as  the  Sister  says:  it  seemed  like 
a  voice  from  Heaven.  She  awakened  the  village 
by  her  call.  She  made  the  fields  happy  when  day 
came.  She  called  Christian  people  to  prayer,  and 
she  wept  for  the  dead.  When  my  wife  died,  I  tolled 
La  Golondrina  for  her  funeral,  and  I  had  no  better 
consolation  than  her  voice.  How  sad  she  did  sound! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Don't  excite  yourself  too  much, 
Martin.  You  will  feel  worse  for  it  later  on. 

SALVADOR.    Let  him  talk. 

MARTIN.  After  the  news  you  have  given  me,  I 
shan't  be  able  to  control  myself  for  days.  You  see 
[441 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


I'm  getting  old.  Well,  since  La  Golondrina  was 
broken,  I  haven't  kept  count  of  my  years.  She 
never  grew  old,  and  I  lived  as  though  she  were 
my  heart.  Sister 

SISTER  PIED  AD.     What  is  it,  Brother? 

MARTIN.     May  I  tell  Barrabas  the  news? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Nothing  more  than  just  tell  it 
to  him? 

MARTIN.  That's  all — that's  all.  He  won't  want 
to  argue  either,  now.  You'll  see! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Very  well,  then.  But  be  care- 
ful what  you  say. 

MARTIN.  Don't  you  worry,  Sister.  Gentlemen, 
if  my  prayers  reach  Heaven,  you  will  never  want 
for  anything  in  this  world.  I  will  give  what  life 
there  remains  in  me  to  La  Golondrina  after  I've 
rung  her  once  more  as  I  did  before  she  was  broken. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     You  may  leave  us  now,  brother. 

SALVADOR.     Good-bye,  Martin. 

LEONARDO.     Good-bye. 

MARTIN  [going  toward  the  right  in  the  orchard  in 
search  of  his  implacable  enemy].  Barrabas!  Senor 
Barrabas!  I  have  some  news  for  you,  friend! 

SALVADOR.  Poor  old  man!  [To  LEONARDO,  who 
is  drying  his  eyes.]  What's  this — are  you  crying,  too? 
[451 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.     Pish! 

SALVADOR.     But,  man  alive! 

LEONARDO.     Foolishness ! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  He  will  tell  the  news  to  Barrabas 
and  to  the  whole  place.  Good  old  Martin  will  gc 
crazy  with  joy. 

LEONARDO.  Why  does  he  want  to  tell  it  to 
Barrabas? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Because  Barrabas  was  baptized 
in  another  church,  and  belongs  to  another  faction. 
In  Las  Canteras  nothing  arouses  more  antagonism 
than  a  dispute  about  bells.  Some  side  with  La 
Golondrina,  and  some  with  La  Sonora,  and  the  day 
when  no  heads  are  broken  over  it  is  one  of  God's 
miracles. 

LEONARDO.     It  all  seems  rather  amusing. 

[SISTER  CONSUELO  enters  through  the  Gateway 
of  the  Cross.  She  carries  a  small  flask  of 
wine  in  her  hand.} 

SISTER  CONSUELO.  The  doctor  is  here,  Don 
Salvador. 

SALVADOR.     Has  he  come? 

SISTER  CONSUELO.  Yes,  he  is  in  your  room.  He 
says  that  he  is  in  a  great  hurry. 

SALVADOR.     I  shall  be  with  him  immediately. 
[46] 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


[SISTER  CONSUELO  removes  the  pan  of  peas 
from  the  statue  of  San  Antonio,  and  sets 
down  the  flask  of  wine.     She  goes  out  by 
the  same  way  she  came  in.] 
LEONARDO.     Well,  good-bye.     I'm  going  now. 
[MALVALOCA  re'e'nters  from  the  left  of  the  cor- 
ridor.    SALVADOR  does  not  see  her  as  he 
starts  to  leave  at  that  moment.] 
MALVALOCA.     Are  you  going? 
SALVADOR.     Ah,  Malvaloca!     Yes,  the  doctor  is 
here,  and  I  am  going  up  to  him.     Will  you  wait? 
MALVALOCA.     No,  I'll  come  back  this  afternoon. 
SALVADOR.    That's  better.    I'll  see  you  later,  then . 
MALVALOCA.     Good-bye. 

SALVADOR.     I'll  be  expecting  you.     I'm  awfully 
glad  you  came  to  see  me. 

MALVALOCA.     And  I,  to  see  you're  out  of  danger. 
Good-bye. 
SALVADOR.     Good-bye. 

[He  goes  in  through  the  Gateway  of  the  Cross. 
SISTER  DOLORES  also  appears  at  the  left, 
seeming  a  bit  perturbed.  She  speaks  to 
SISTER  PIEDAD  aside  and  shows  a  jewel  to 
her.  Meanwhile,  LEONARDO  and  MAL- 
VALOCA are  saying  good-bye.] 
[47] 


Ad  i  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.     I'm  very  happy  to  have  met  you. 

LEONARDO.     More  than  I  am  to  have  met  you? 

MALVALOCA.     Just  the  same,  probably. 

LEONARDO.  It  can't  be.  Remember  there  is 
some  difference  between  you  and  me. 

MALVALOCA.  Caramba!  Our  Andalusian  ways 
are  going  to  your  head. 

LEONARDO.     But  they're  rather  difficult  to  acquire. 

MALVALOCA.  Nothing  is  difficult.  We  shall 
see,  however.  I  suppose  you  will  be  coming  here 
again  to  see  your  friend? 

LEONARDO.     Of  course! 

MALVALOCA.     Well,  then,  we'll  see  each  other. 

LEONARDO.     Indeed  we  shall. 

SISTER  PIED  AD  [approaching  MALVALOCA].     Sister! 

MALVALOCA.     What  is  it? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  I  wonder,  was  it  you — it  must 
have  been — was  it  you  who  left  this  jewel  on  the 
altar  before  the  Virgin? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes.     I  left  it  for  the  poor. 

[SISTER  DOLORES  goes  to  tell  SISTER  CARMEN 
about  the  matter.  LEONARDO  follows  the 
incident  with  interest  and  emotion.] 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     For  the  poor? 

MALVALOC/-    Yes. 

[481 


MALVALOCA  Act  I 


SISTER  PIEDAD  [very  much  overcome].  But  sister, 
a  gift  in  this  form,  and  of  this  value 

MALVALOCA.  Do  you  mean?  .  .  .  Is  it  be- 
cause it  comes  from  me? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Oh,  no!  sister,  I  don't  know 
who  you  are.  I  only  know  that  you  came  here  to 
see  a  sick  friend,  that  you  went  to  pray  to  the 
Virgin,  and  that  you  left  this  jewel  on  her  altar  for 
the  poor.  Why  should  I  disapprove  of  anything 
that  comes  from  your  hands?  Besides,  wherever 
the  jewel  comes  from,  my  dear  sister,  it  brings  with 
it  a  radiance  that  outshines  the  hand  that  gives  it. 

MALVALOCA  [in  a  sudden  burst  of  feeling  at  hearing 
her,  and  with  that  natural  intimacy  and  charming 
simplicity  with  which  she  does  everything].  Well, 
then,  if  you  can't  see  the  hand  that  gives  it,  take 
this,  too !  [She  takes  the  gold  chain  from  her  neck  and 
gives  it  to  her.] 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Sister! 

MALVALOCA.     It's  for  the  poor. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     But 

MALVALOCA.  That's  the  only  way  I  know  how 
to  be  good!  For  the  poor!  [She  looks  at  both  their 
faces  and  smiles.]  Well,  I'll  see  you  later. 

[Exit  hurriedly  into  the  garden. 
[49] 


Act  I  MALVALOCA 


SISTER  PIEDAD.     Who  is  this  girl? 
LEONARDO.     I  have  only  just  met  her  myself, 
Sister.     Good-bye  until  this  afternoon. 
SISTER  PIEDAD.     God  be  with  you. 
LEONARDO.     Good-bye,  Sister. 

[MALVALOCA,  who,  as  she  came  in,  stopped  like 
a  dove  orienting  herself  in  the  garden,  again 
pauses,  and  at  last  goes  out  firmly  to  the  left 
— upstage.  LEONARDO  follows  her,  although 
with  an  effort  at  concealment,  as  if  his  manly 
spirit  were  enmeshed  in  the  fine  fringe  of 
the  woman's  shawl. 

SISTER   PIEDAD   is   much   moved.     With 

tears  in  her  eyes  she  stands  looking  at  the 

jewels  as  she  repeats  MALVALOCA'S  words.] 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     That's  the  only  way  she  knows 

how  to  be  good! 

[Upstage,  SISTER  DOLORES  talks  it  over  with 
SISTER  CARMEN,  who,  in  deference  to  the 
extraordinary  interest  of  the  scene,  suspends 
for  a  moment  her  constant  and  quiet  work.] 

End  of  Act  One 


[50] 


ACT  II 


ACT  II 

A  large,  irregular,  well-lighted  court  between  LEON- 
ARDO'S house  and  the  workshops  of  "La  Nina  de 
Bronce."  To  the  left  of  the  actor  is  the  entrance  of 
the  house.  To  the  right,  that  of  the  foundry.  Up- 
stage is  a  wall  through  which  is  a  small  gateway  lead- 
ing into  a  yard  which  gives  access  to  the  street. 
Before  the  house  doorway  is  a  covered  porch  with 
dark  green  roof  tiles  and  white  pillars.  These 
rest  upon  huge  bases  of  brick,  also  white.  In  the 
shelter  afforded  by  this  porch  is  LEONARDO'S  work- 
table.  Several  flower  boxes  with  geraniums  and 
roses  adorn  the  place.  In  a  corner  to  the  right  there 
is  a  heaped-up  pile  of  old  material  from  the  foundry. 
It  is  morning  in  the  month  of  May. 

Enter  SALVADOR  from  the  shops  with  a  roll  of 
papers  in  his  hand.  He  wears  a  long  blouse  and  a 
cap.  He  goes  to  LEONARDO'S  table,  puts  the  rolls 
of  paper  upon  it,  and  examines  various  documents 
with  interest.  TERESONA  enters  through  the  gate- 
[53] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


way  from  the  yard.  Once  caretaker  of  the  shops, 
she  is  now  LEONARDO'S  servant.  She  comes  from 
the  market-place  carrying  a  huge  basket  on  her  arm, 
full  of  the  day's  provisions.  She  stops  to  address 
SALVADOR  before  entering  the  house. 

TERESONA.     Good  morning,  Seftor,  and  welcome. 

SALVADOR.     Hello,  Teresona. 

TERESONA.  I  was  sleeping  like  a  top  but  I  knew 
when  you  arrived  last  night,  and  that  you  came  to 
see  the  master. 

SALVADOR.  Yes.  ...  I  asked  for  you  when 
I  arrived. 

TERESONA.  Don  Leonardo's  sister  also  came  yes- 
terday, but  in  the  morning. 

SALVADOR.     I  saw  her  last  night. 

TERESONA.  How  pretty  she  is,  and  what  a  sweet 
face  she  has!  But  how  was  your  father? 

SALVADOR.     As  well  and  strong  as  ever. 

TERESONA.  May  God  keep  him  many  years 
for  you.  I  suppose  you  heard  all  the  news  of  what 
happened  during  the  month  you  were  away? 

SALVADOR.     I'm  finding  out  little  by  little. 

TERESONA.  Don  Salvador,  there  are  times  when 
the  best  of  us  get  into  a  little  difficulty,  but  who- 
[541 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


ever  gets  mixed  up  in  a  fight  is  lost.     I  look  on  and 
keep  still.     It's  the  old  women  in  the  village  who 
do  the  gossiping,  and  they  can  do  it,  too.     [She  shows 
him  some  coral  earrings  which  she  wears.]     Look, 
Seftor,  he  gave  me  these,  so  I  keep  mum.     Is  there 
anything  you  wish? 
SALVADOR.     No,  you  may  go  now. 
TERESONA.     Good-bye,  Senor. 

[Exit  into  the  house. 

SALVADOR.      Bah!      I  knew  it  must  happen  to 
him. 

[He  continues  to  examine  papers  and  books. 
From  this  occupation  he  is  distracted  by  the 
unlooked-for  appearance  of  Tio  JEROMO  who 
enters  through  the  gateway.  He  is  MAL- 
VALOCA'S  uncle,  but  one  would  not  suspect 
it  from  his  looks.  He  is  about  fifty  years  of 
age.  He  wears  his  cap  wherever  he  goes,  and 
carries  a  small  basket  containing  his  lunch. 
He  walks  toward  the  shops.] 

Tio  JEROMO  [pleasantly  surprised  at  seeing  SAL- 
VADOR].    Salvador!     Is  it  you?     Back  already? 
SALVADOR  [very  much  astonished].     Eh? 
Tio  JEROMO.     I  never  would  have  known  you  in 
that  blouse.    Did  you  have  a  good  trip? 
[55] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.  But  I  can't  believe  my  eyes!  You 
here?  How  does  that  happen? 

Tio  JEROMO.  Oh !  Hasn't  your  partner  told  you 
anything  about  it?  Why,  I've  been  working  in  the 
foundry  for  a  week  now. 

SALVADOR.     You? 

Tio  JEROMO.  Me!  I  heard  of  my  niece's  affair 
with  your  partner  and  took  advantage  of  it.  You 
know  how  Malvaloca  has  always  provided  for  the 
family. 

SALVADOR.     Well,  yes! 

Tio  JEROMO.    Does  it  look  good  to  you,  Salvador? 

SALVADOR.     Yes,  very  good! 

Tio  JEROMO.  Now  that  you  are  here,  just  see  if 
I  don't  know  a  thing  or  two' 

SALVADOR.     Possibly. 

Tio  JEROMO  [patting  him  familiarly  on  the  back]. 
You're  a  smart  one! 

SALVADOR.  What  do  you  mean  by  this  familiar- 
ity? When  were  you  and  I  ever  on  such  intimate 
terms? 

Tio  JEROMO  [disconcerted.  Half  in  jest>  and  half 
seriously].  Excuse  me,  Don  Salvador. 

SALVADOR.  That's  better.  But  keep  your  hat 
in  your  hand — so. 

[56] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


Tio  JEROMO.     I  thought  we  would  be  as  we  used 

SALVADOR.  That  is  all  a  thing  of  the  past.  Get 
to  work  now.  What  are  you  working  on? 

Tio  JEROMO.     Anything  that  turns  up.     Odd  jobs. 

SALVADOR.  Very  likely.  And  have  you  per- 
mission to  get  here  later  than  the  others? 

Tio  JEROMO.  I  have  my  niece  to  take  care  of. 
What  more  do  you  want?  I  had  an  awful  night 
last  night,  Salvador.  God  keep  you  from  anything 
like  it,  God  keep  you!  Excuse  me,  I  didn't  mean 
to  be  so  familiar.  It  was  just  habit.  I  have  a 
poor  liver. 

SALVADOR.  Well,  you  can  cure  it  ...  in 
there ! 

Tio  JEROMO.  Here  I  go.  I'm  glad  to  see  you 
looking  so  well,  Don  Salvador. 

SALVADOR.     Thanks. 

Tio  JEROMO.     Excuse  me  if  I  have  done  wrong. 

SALVADOR.     That's  all  right. 

Tio  JEROMO.  If  there's  any  one  I  want  to  please 
here,  it's  you,  Don  Salvador. 

SALVADOR.     In  with  you,  man! 

Tio  JEROMO  [much  moved].     Don  Salvador,  please 
don't  act  like  that  toward  me. 
[57] 


Act  11  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.  In  with  you!  In  with  you!  You're 
more  afraid  of  work  than  you  are  of  an  earthquake! 
All  this  talk  is  merely  to  keep  yourself  from  doing 
anything. 

Tio  JEROMO  [changing  his  tone  and  laughing].  You 
make  me  laugh  with  your  goings  on.  Good-bye. 

[Exit,  laughing,  into  the  shops.  Deep  down  in 
his  heart,  however,  there  is  a  doubt  as  to  the 
security  of  his  position], 

SALVADOR.  Well,  I  never  thought  things  would 
advance  so  rapidly.  Now  that  we  have  the  lobster 
we'll  have  to  clip  his  claws.  We  shall  see,  we  shall 
see.  [Crosses  to  the  door  of  the  shops  and  calls.] 
Lobito!  Lobito! 

[LOBITO  enters  after  a  little.     He  is  a  very  young 
workman,  wideawake  and  talkative.     He  is 
in   his  shirtsleeves,   wears   a   cap,   very   old 
trousers,    and    "alpargatas"    (canvas    shoes 
with  rope  soles).     A  coarse  and  dirty  apron 
is  tied  by  a  cord  at  his  waist.     In  his  hand 
he  carries  a  large  file.] 
LOBITO.     Did  you  call  Senor? 
SALVADOR.     Come    here.    Drop    your    file,    and 
let's  smoke  a  cigarette. 

LOBITO.    Thank  you  very  much,  Senor.    I  haven't 
[581 


MALVALOCA  Ad  11 


felt  the  warmth  of  one  in  my  hand  for  some  time. 
You  got  back  last  night,  didn't  you? 

SALVADOR.     Yes.     Last  night. 

LOBITO.  And  we  recast  La  Golondrina  to- 
day! 

SALVADOR.  To-day.  I've  already  seen  the  ma- 
terial in  the  crucibles,  and  Don  Leonardo  has  told 
me  that  the  mould  is  in  splendid  condition. 

LOBITO.  Yes,  Seftor.  It  was  made  very  care- 
fully. We've  even  come  to  blows  in  the  shops  about 
La  Golondrina.  There  are  two  parties  of  us.  .  .  . 

SALVADOR.    To  which  do  you  belong? 

LOBITO.  I  stand  up  for  La  Golondrina.  I'm  what 
they  call  a  "Volandero."  But  Manuel  Martinez 
and  Bartolo  and  the  hunch-back,  with  three  or  four 
others,  are  "Swells."  They  are  for  the  bell  of  the 
Iglesia  Mayor. 

SALVADOR.  Do  you  know  what  party  the  new 
workman  belongs  to,  and  where  he  comes  from? 

LOBITO.  Him?  Why  the  Utrera  prison  has  the 
honor! 

SALVADOR.     The  prison? 

LOBITO.     You  forced  me  to  tell  you. 

SALVADOR.     Does  he  work  hard? 

LOBITO.  Work?  He?  Why,  he's  too  good  to 
[59] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


carry  a  basket  across  the  shop!    The  apprentices 
call  him  Don  Jeromo. 

SALVADOR  [laughing].  Then  he  must  have  come 
strongly  recommended. 

LOBITO.  Are  you  joking?  From  the  way  he 
spoke  of  you  when  you  were  away,  I  thought  it  was 
you  who  did  the  recommending. 

SALVADOR.  So  the  shameless  fellow  speaks  well 
of  me? 

LOBITO.  He  never  stops!  Never  mentions  your 
name  without  praising  you  to  the  skies. 

SALVADOR.  Well,  well!  How  badly  Don  Jeromo 
is  going  to  be  repaid! 

LOBITO.     Don't  get  mixed  up  in  this  thing,  Seflor. 

SALVADOR.     Why  not? 

LOBITO.  Why  not?  Why,  because  he  is  her 
uncle,  and  came  here  through  her,  and  that  is  all 
that  need  be  said. 

SALVADOR.     Through  her?     And  who  is  her  ? 

LOBITO.  That's  a  good  one !  This  is  a  day  for  jokes. 

SALVADOR.     Is  it  Malvaloca? 

LOBITO.     Of  course!     Don't  be  foolish,  Seiior. 

SALVADOR.  No  wonder,  but  I  didn't  know  a 
thing  about  it.  Tell  me — has  this  woman  remained 
in  Las  Canteras? 

[60] 


MALVALOCA  Act  11 


LOBITO.  In  Las  Canteras  and  in  Don  Leonardo's 
mind!  She  surely  never  is  out  of  that.  She  lives 
in  one  of  Sra.  Resolana's  new  houses.  So  far  so  good; 
when  Don  Leonardo  is  not  there  with  her,  she  is 
here  with  him.  They  can't  leave  each  other. 

SALVADOR.     Does  Malvaloca  come  here? 

LOBITO.  She  comes  nearly  every  day.  She  came 
into  the  shops  from  the  very  first.  How  we  used  to 
laugh  at  her.  She  would  keep  you  amused  for  a  week. 
But  it's  pretty  well  known  that  they  told  her  that 
she  diverted  us  from  work,  for  now  she  doesn't  come 
in  much.  It's  too  bad,  for  aside  from  her  good 
looks,  she's  more  generous  than  most  people  I  have 
seen. 

SALVADOR.  She  has  a  hole  in  her  hand.  I  know 
her. 

LOBITO.     A  hole?     It's  a  regular  sieve! 

SALVADOR.     So  Leonardo  is 

LOBITO.  He's  gone!  When  he  comes  from  over 
there,  it's  no  use  asking  him  anything.  He  won't 
pay  any  attention  to  you.  He  only  talks  and 
laughs  to  himself  as  if  he  were  still  with  her.  And 
when  he  is  waiting  for  her  here,  and  she  happens  to 
be  a  little  late — it's  well  to  get  out  of  his  way. 
Leonardo  may  be  a  gentleman  and  well  educated 
[61] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


but  he  can  be  rougher  and  harsher  than  a  wire 
brush. 

SALVADOR.  He's  going  wrong,  Lobito;  things  are 
going  wrong  with  him. 

LOBITO  [insinuatingly].  She's  worth  it,  isn't  she 
Senor? 

SALVADOR.  Yes,  yes.  But  one  has  to  know  how 
to  manage  her.  And  my  friend  takes  this  life  too 
much  to  heart. 

LOBITO.  Pichichi,  the  office  boy,  told  me  that 
the  woman  is  a  book  that  you  know  by  heart. 

SALVADOR.  Well,  you  tell  Pichichi  from  me  to 
close  his  little  mouth ! 

LOBITO.     Here  comes  Don  Leonardo. 

SALVADOR.  I  see  where  I  shall  have  to  heap 
coals  of  fire  on  his  head. 

[Enter  LEONARDO  through  the  gateway  which 
opens  on  the  yard.  He  comes  from  the 
street.] 

LEONARDO.     Hello,  traveler! 

SALVADOR.     Hello ! 

LEONARDO.     Did  you  have  a  good  sleep? 

SALVADOR.     Yes,  and  even  better  than  that. 

LOBITO.     Do  you  wish  anything  more,  Sefior? 

SALVADOR.     No,  you  may  go  on  with  your  work. 
[62] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


LOBITO.     I'm  going  to  see  about  the  wheel. 

[Exit  into  the  shop. 
SALVADOR.     Where  is  your  sister? 
LEONARDO  [pointing  to  the  house].     She  is  here.     I 
left  early  this  morning  without  seeing  her.     I  often 
get  up  early  these  days. 
SALVADOR.     You  do,  eh? 

LEONARDO.     Yes,  I  like  to  see  the  sun  rise  from 
behind  the  castle.     Have  you  never  seen  it? 

SALVADOR    [mischieiously].     The    sun    rise    from 
behind  the  castle?     Yes,  indeed,  sir,  before  you  ever 
did. 
LEONARDO.     What? 

[Enter  a  workman  from  the  shops.] 
WORKMAN.     Don  Salvador,  the  modeller  wishes 
to  ask  you  a  question. 

SALVADOR.     I'll  be  there  in  a  minute. 
LEONARDO.     What  is  it  he  wants? 
SALVADOR.     Nothing  much.     I  told  him  to  give 
a  little  more  spirit  to  the  model  of  that  grating. 
LEONARDO.     Oh ! 

[Exit  the  workman  into  the  yard.     He  reappears 

in  a  moment  and  goes  into  the  shops  carrying 

a  cross  bar.     JUANELA  enters  from  the  house; 

SALVADOR  stops  a  moment  to  greet  her.     She 

[63] 


Act  11  MALVALOCA 


justifies  the  reflection  which  TERESONA  has 
already  made.] 

SALTADOR.     Good  morning. 

JUANELA.  Good  morning.  Hello,  Leonardo!  I 
saw  you  from  my  balcony  as  you  came  in. 

LEONARDO.    Ah,  you  did? 

JUANELA.  You  surely  are  an  early  riser.  How 
early  you  go  out! 

SALVADOR  [artfutty].  Night  comes  on  so  quickly 
in  these  small  places!  Eh,  Leonardo? 

LEONARDO  [startled].     Yes     ...     of  course. 

SALVADOR.     I'll  see  you  later. 

JUANELA.     Good-bye. 

SALVADOR.  If  this  chap  speaks  ill  of  me,  don't 
believe  him. 

[Exit  into  the  shop. 

JUANELA.  Rest  assured!  Your  friend  seems  to 
be  a  great  joker.  [LEONARDO  is  very  much  pre- 
occupied. JUANELA  watches  him  for  some  moments 
in  silence.]  What  are  you  thinking  about? 

LEONARDO.     Eh? 

JUANELA.  What  are  you  thinking  about?  Are 
you  here,  or  somewhere  else? 

LEONARDO.     I  ana  here,  only  I  was  a  bit  absent- 
minded,     What  do  you  want? 
[641 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


JUANELA.  Nothing.  Only  try  to  realize  you  are 
here,  and  that  I  am,  too! 

LEONARDO.     Very  well,  I'll  try. 

JUANELA.  I'm  going  out  now  to  take  a  walk 
about  the  town  with  Teresona.  May  I? 

LEONARDO.  Yes.  With  Teresona,  yes.  Teresona 
is  a  fine  woman.  She  was  the  caretaker  of  this  house 
before  we  took  it,  and  I  have  kept  her  in  my  service. 

JUANELA.     She  seems  to  think  a  lot  of  you. 

LEONARDO.     Yes. 

JUANELA.  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Leon- 
ardo? Something  is  wrong.  I  noticed  it  last  night. 

LEONARDO.  No,  there  isn't,  silly!  What  could 
be  the  matter?  The  trouble  is  you  have  forgotten 
my  ways  because  you  haven't  lived  with  me  for  a 
long  time.  Run  along  and  take  your  walk  with 
Teresona.  You  will  like  the  place,  I'm  sure. 

JUANELA.  I  loved  the  part  I  saw  yesterday. 
How  bright  it  is!  And  the  houses  are  so  white  that 
they  hurt  one's  eyes  when  the  sun  strikes  them.  Do 
you  remember  how  we  used  to  dream  of  this  An- 
dalusian  country  away  off  there  on  our  farm?  I 
used  to  think  of  it  as  a  land  that  I  should  never  see — 
a  story  land. 

LEONARDO  [absently].    And  here  you  are  in  it. 
[65] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


JUANELA.  I  am,  yes.  But  I  insist  that  you  are 
at  least  in  Asturias! 

LEONARDO.     No,  little  one,  no. 

JUANELA.  Come!  I'm  not  so  simple  as  all  that. 
Is  what  they  tell  me  about  you  true? 

LEONARDO  [quickly].     What  did  they  tell  you? 

JUANELA.     It's  true! 

LEONARDO.     What  is? 

JUANELA.     That  you  have  a  sweetheart! 

LEONARDO.     A  sweetheart?     Who  told  you  that? 

JUANELA.  A  neighbor  who  saw  me  waiting  for 
you  yesterday  on  the  balcony;  she  started  a  con- 
versation with  me.  The  people  in  this  place  are 
very  confidential.  Whatever  comes  into  their  heads 
pops  out  again.  They  think  aloud.  Don't  you 
agree  with  me? 

LEONARDO.  There  is  something  in  what  you  say. 
It  all  comes  from  an  exaggerated  gift  of  imagination. 
They  are  often  mistaken  in  what  they  say  here. 

JUANELA.     And  are  they  mistaken  this  time? 

LEONARDO  [after  gazing  at  her].  Would  you  feel 
badly  if  they  were  not? 

JUANELA.     On  the  contrary,  I  want  you  to  marry, 
so  you  will  stop  roaming  about  the  world,  and  so 
I  can  come  to  live  with  you. 
[66] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


LEONARDO.  Aren't  you  happy  with  Aunt  and 
Uncle? 

JUANELA.  Yes.  They  take  very  good  care  of 
me.  But  that  is  different.  It  isn't  my  own  home, 
as  yours  would  be — as  father's  used  to  be. 

LEONARDO  [with  a  sigh].  I  know.  Last  night 
you  told  me  that  you  went  to  see  him  before  coming 
here. 

JUANELA.  I  did.  Instead  of  cheering  me  up, 
the  visit  saddened  me.  He  isn't  happy. 

LEONARDO.     He  couldn't  be. 

JUANELA.  What  a  shame  that  it  should  always 
be  a  woman  who  destroys  the  home! 

[The  two  are  silent.     Enter  TERESONA,  wearing 
a  different  shawl.] 

TERESONA.     Shall  we  go,  child? 

JUANELA.     Ah,  Teresona!     Yes,  let's  go. 

TERESONA.  Very  well,  come  along;  I  can't  leave 
the  kitchen  for  long. 

JUANELA.     Come  on. 

TERESONA.  I'm  going  to  take  you  to  the  Iglesia 
Mayor  first.  Then  to  the  mill  so  you  can  see  the 
fields  from  the  tower. 

LEONARDO.     Good. 

JUANELA.     I'll  see  you  afterward,  brother. 
[671 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.     Good-bye. 

TERESONA  [mischievously  to  LEONARDO  as  JUANELA 
enters  the  house.  She  refers  to  her  shawl].  It  is 
yours.  Do  you  recognize  it? 

LEONARDO.     Hush ! 

TERESONA.  Don't  be  afraid.  I  never  let  my 
tongue  get  me  into  trouble.  Good-bye. 

[Exit  after  JUANELA. 

LEONARDO  [reproaching  himself  bitterly].  Bah! 
Always  a  coward.  What  is  it?  What  is  the  matter 
with  me?  I  hardly  recognize  myself. 

[SALVADOR  enters  from  the  shops  in  time  to 
see  and  hear  him.] 

SALVADOR.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  a  little  soon 
to  begin  talking  to  yourself. 

LEONARDO.     What? 

SALVADOR.  It  is  only  a  step  from  that  to  throwing 
stones  about  the  streets  in  a  pet. 

LEONARDO.     You  are  always  in  such  good  humor! 

SALVADOR.  And  aren't  you?  Aren't  you  good- 
humored  to-day? 

LEONARDO.  I  scarcely  ever  am.  You  know  that. 
And  not  at  all  to-day,  especially  since  a  moment 
ago. 

SALVADOR.     Well,  then,  what  is  the  matter? 
[68] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


LEONARDO.     Oh,  something. 

SALVADOR.  Something  to  do  with  her.  Am  I 
right? 

LEONARDO.     Eh? 

SALVADOR.  Love  is  apt  to  be  nonsensical  like 
that;  at  best  it  will  come  on  to  rain  when  the  sun 
is  shining.  But  the  shower  soon  passes  away. 

LEONARDO.     What  do  you  imagine  my  trouble  is? 

SALVADOR.  It's  not  a  case  of  imagination.  I 
know  that  the  little  beast  which  you  think  you  have 
inside  of  you  is  being  tamed  to  the  music  of  a  skirt 
which  is  none  too  worthy. 

LEONARDO.  What  a  queer  way  you  have  of  put- 
ting things!  Where  did  you  learn  all  this? 

SALVADOR.     From  you  yourself. 

LEONARDO.     From  me? 

SALVADOR.     From  you. 

LEONARDO.     Since  when? 

SALVADOR.  Since  the  day  when  Malvaloca  came 
to  Las  Canteras.  In  your  first  conversation  with 
her  you  fell  like  a  raw  recruit.  Come,  deny  it. 

LEONARDO.     If  you  call  it  falling. 

SALVADOR.  You  see?  I  only  had  to  hear  you 
first,  and  then,  afterward,  to  see  you  with  her. 
After  that  you  didn't  come  to  the  Home  to  see  me, 
[69] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


but  to  meet  Malvaloca.  And  since  I  know  you, 
and  also  know  her,  I  had  a  feeling  inside  that  you 
wouldn't  last  as  long  as  tin  does  in  fire. 

LEONARDO.  That's  the  way  it  was.  I  confess 
it  to  you,  you  are  a  loyal  friend.  I  have  never  seen 
a  woman  who  has  captivated  and  interested  me  so 
much. 

SALVADOR.  Yes,  yes.  She  carries  with  her  a 
bloom  of  conviviality. 

LEONARDO.  Conviviality  isn't  adequate  to  de- 
scribe the  attraction  she  exercises.  She  hasn't  a 
word  or  a  movement  that  doesn't  get  one  deeper  in 
love.  She  fascinates  me.  I  don't  know  whether 
or  not  it  is  the  contrast  between  her  position  and 
mine,  but  she  fascinates  me. 

SALVADOR.     She  has  wit. 

LEONARDO.  Something  more  than  wit.  There 
is  light  in  her  lips,  in  her  face,  in  her  hands,  in  her 
hair — 

SALVADOR.     That  may  be  brilliantine. 

LEONARDO.  Can  it  be  that  you  make  a  joke  of 
it? 

SALVADOR.     Don't  you  see  I  can? 

LEONARDO.     Is  what  I  am  saying  so  ridiculous? 

SALVADOR.  Nonsense!  My  joke  was  merely 
[70] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


caused  by  envy  at  seeing  you  so  much  in  love.  I'd 
like  to  fall  in  love  like  that,  only  I  never  get  the 
chance,  or  hardly  ever. 

LEONARDO.  Never.  But  no  matter.  Perhaps 
you  live  more  peacefully  for  it.  More  happily,  I 
won't  say.  Malvaloca  has  come  into  my  heart 
and  awakened  feelings  that  were  dormant  or  new 
there.  Would  you  believe  that  even  to  suffer  when 
I  am  with  her  is  a  great  joy  to  me?  I  suffer  and 
weep,  just  as  I  laugh  and  enjoy  myself.  I  live — 
live — and  to  live  for  a  woman  is  something. 

SALVADOR  [somewhat  gravely].     But,  man — 

LEONARDO.  I  swear  to  you  by  our  friendship, 
that  Malvaloca  not  only  fascinates  me  by  the 
witchery  of  her  person,  the  passion  of  her  eyes,  the 
grace  of  her  carriage,  her  words 

SALVADOR.     What  else? 

LEONARDO.  All  of  them  put  together;  more 
than  all,  if  such  a  thing  is  possible.  It  is  the  in- 
nate goodness  of  her  heart;  her  mad  generosity;  the 
deep  sadness  of  her  misfortune  of  which  her  tears 
tell  me  more  than  her  words,  the  unlooked-for  tears 
which  come  into  her  eyes  even  in  her  happiest  mo- 
ments— all  this  seduces  me,  moves  me,  and  makes 
me  tremble.  Do  you  understand? 
[711 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.  Yes,  of  course  I  understand.  I  also 
understand  that  these  things  hold  you  fast. 

LEONARDO.     What  do  you  say? 

SALVADOR.  But  it  will  pass  over.  This  fire  will 
soon  die  out. 

LEONARDO  [as  though  asking  himself].  Will  it 
pass  over? 

SALVADOR.  Of  course  it  will!  You're  fascinated 
now,  I  know.  I  know,  too,  about  the  affair  in 
La  Resolana's  house,  the  number  of  times  you  go 
there,  how  enchanted  you  are  to  see  the  sun  rise 
from  behind  the  castle 

LEONARDO  [laughing].     What  a  rascal  you  are! 

SALVADOR.     How  she  visits  the  foundry 

LEONARDO.     No! 

SALVADOR.     Yes! 

LEONARDO.  She  has  been  here  only  a  few  times. 
I  swear  it. 

SALVADOR.  No,  sir!  She  comes  every  day.  A 
few  times,  indeed! 

LEONARDO.  I  always  have  to  laugh  when  I  am 
with  you.  She's  due  here  for  a  little  visit  soon! 

SALVADOR.     What?     She's  coming  here  soon? 

LEONARDO.     Yes.     She  hasn't  been  here  to-day. 

SALVADOR.     Is  she  coming  soon,  Leonardo? 
[72] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


LEONARDO.     Well,  why  are  you  surprised? 

SALVADOR.  You're  crazier  than  I  thought  you 
were! 

LEONARDO.     Eh? 

SALVADOR.     What  about  your  sister? 

LEONARDO  [disturbed].  My  sister — that's  right — 
you  think  it  is  wrong  while  my  sister  is  here 

SALVADOR.     Of  course. 

LEONARDO.  Well,  I'm  not  so  crazy  as  you  think. 
The  very  same  idea  occurred  to  me  before  it  did  to 
you.  I  went  to  tell  her  not  to  come  yesterday,  but 
it  wasn't  necessary,  for  she  anticipated  me  by  saying 
that  she  wasn't  going  out. 

SALVADOR.     And  to-day? 

LEONARDO.     I  went  the  same  as  yesterday. 

SALVADOR.  And  didn't  you  tell  her  to-day, 
either? 

LEONARDO.     No. 

SALVADOR.     Why  not? 

LEONARDO.  Because — well,  because  it  is  a  thing 
that  is  repugnant  to  my  feelings,  and  I  couldn't 
say  it. 

SALVADOR.     You  do  wrong,  Leonardo. 

LEONARDO.  Well,  then,  I  shall  do  wrong,  but  I 
shall  comply  with  the  dictates  of  my  conscience.  I 
[73] 


Act  11  MALVALOCA 


cannot  tell  a  good  woman — one  who  wishes  to  be 
honorable — to  stop  coming  to  my  house.  That 
is  like  attempting  to  prevent  her  from  being  good. 

SALVADOR.  But,  let's  see.  Don't  get  excited. 
Does  Malvaloca  know  that  your  sister  is  here? 

LEONARDO.     I  think  not. 

SALVADOR.  Well,  without  your  attempting  tc 
prevent  her,  as  soon  as  she  finds  your  sister  is  here» 
she  won't  come. 

LEONARDO.     She  won't? 

SALVADOR.  She  knows  her  ground,  and  has  more 
common  sense  than  you  have. 

LEONARDO.  She  must  understand  resignation 
then. 

SALVADOR.  Put  it  any  way  you  wish.  You  are 
not  the  only  one  responsible  for  .Malvaloca's  life. 

LEONARDO.     What  egotism  is  this,  Salvador? 

SALVADOR.  The  egotism  of  living  on  earth  and 
not  on  the  moon! 

LEONARDO.  The  egotism  of —  But  it  is  best 
not  to  talk  about  this  particular  thing.  We  could 
talk  until  we  were  tired  and  you  would  probably 
never  learn  to  understand  me.  There  are  some 
things  which  never  enter  the  intelligence  without 
first  passing  through  the  heart. 
[74] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


SALVADOR.  As  you  like.  What  shall  we  talk 
about?  I  know  very  well  that  when  a  man  is  in  your 
heated  condition,  he  will  only  pay  attention  to  him- 
self. 

[Enter  Tio  JEROMO  from  the  shops.     He  goes 
toward  the  yard  gate.     He  still  wears  his 
working  clothes,  after  the  fashion  of  LOBITO, 
and  carries  a  small  mallet  hung  from  his  belt, 
a  saw  in  his  left  hand,  and  a  chisel  in  his 
right.     He  greets  LEONARDO  as  he  passes.] 
Tio  JEROMO.     Good  morning,  Don  Leonardo. 
LEONARDO.     Good  morning,  Jeromo. 
Tio  JEROMO.     Congratulations  on  Don  Salvador's 
return. 

LEONARDO.     Thanks. 

Tio  JEROMO.     We're  working  hard.  [Exit. 

SALVADOR.  We  can  at  least  talk  about  this 
invaluable  workman  here.  Why  didn't  you  write 
me  something  about  this  acquisition? 

LEONARDO.  I  beg  your  pardon.  It  was  forget- 
fulness  or  carelessness.  It  wasn't  important,  and 
I  didn't  think  it  was  necessary. 

SALVADOR.     And  it  wasn't.     The  necessary  and 
important  thing  to  do,  is  to  turn  him  into  the  street. 
LEONARDO.     Malvaloca's  uncle? 
[75] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.     Correct — Don  Jeromo. 

LEONARDO.     He  has  attended  to  his  duty  so  far. 

SALVADOR.  He?  Why,  he's  never  done  a  stroke 
of  work  in  his  life!  Moreover,  he  is  a  consummate 
rascal  with  bad  blood  in  his  veins.  He's  a  danger  to 
the  business.  I've  already  noticed  a  pack  of  cards 
in  the  shops,  and  the  wine  bottle  won't  be  long  in 
coming. 

LEONARDO.     Do  you  think  he  brought  the  cards? 

SALVADOR.  I'm  sure  of  it.  He's  taken  good 
money  from  four  unfortunates  already.  What  is 
more,  the  tools  and  shovels  which  are  missing  were 
carried  off  by  him. 

LEONARDO.  Oh,  no,  that  can't  be  true!  We 
must  try  to  reform  him. 

SALVADOR.  What  we  ought  to  do  is  to  pay  him 
with  a  good  kick  and  throw  him  into  the  street. 
For  if  you  are  kind  to  him  and  let  him  stay,  besides 
the  trouble  he  is  giving,  you  are  going  to  have  the 
whole  tribe,  his  family  and  their  friends  to  bother 
you.  Malvaloca's  small  brother,  her  mother,  her 
father,  her  godfather  and  her  godmother,  her  aunt 
and  her  uncle — oh,  I  know  them! 

LEONARDO.     This  must  be  stopped. 

SALVADOR.     I'm  afraid  it  won't  be. 
[76] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


LEONARDO.  Yes,  it  shall.  After  all,  he  is  only 
a  workman  who  may  cause  trouble,  and  whom  we 
can  discharge  this  very  day.  Or  do  you  think  I 
am  so  weak  that  for  a  satisfaction  foreign  to  our 
interests  I  could  overlook  something  that  may  be  a 
disadvantage  to  us  and  demoralizing  to  our  busi- 
ness? Well,  if  you  do,  you  are  mistaken.  We'll 
discharge  the  man  to-day. 

SALVADOR.     That's  not  quite  necessary. 

LEONARDO.  Indeed  it  is,  Salvador.  [lie  sees 
Tio  JEROMO  approaching.  He  comes  from  tJie  yard; 
the  tools  in  the  same  position  as  before.]  To-day  is 
too  late.  We'll  do  it  this  very  minute. 

SALVADOR.     You  are  certainly  in  a  hurry  about  it! 

LEONARDO.  I'm  always  in  a  hurry  to  do  my  duty. 
Listen,  Jeromo.  We  were  just  talking  about  you. 

Tio  JEROMO.     About  me? 

LEONARDO.     Yes. 

Tio  JEROMO.     Good  or  bad? 

SALVADOR.  Don  Leonardo  spoke  well  of  you,  but 
I  very  much  to  the  contrary. 

Tio  JEROMO.     Oh,  ho!     [LEONARDO  goes  to  his 

table  and  turns  over  the  leaves  of  the  day  book.     Tio 

JEROMO  scents  trouble,  and  starts  to  flatter  in  order  to 

disarm  his  enemy.]     Good!     I'm  like  the  boys  in 

[771 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


the  shops  who  belong  to  this  parish:  I'm  thinking 
about  the  casting  of  La  Golondrina.  What  an 
event,  Don  Salvador,  what  an  event  to  write  about 
in  the  History  of  Spain! 

LEONARDO.     You  are  right. 

Tio  JEROMO.     What  is  he  talking  about? 

SALVADOR.  He's  forecasting  another  event  which 
is  about  to  take  place  this  minute. 

LEONARDO.  From  this  moment  you  may  con- 
sider yourself  discharged  from  the  foundry. 

[Tio  JEROMO'S  gesture  of  stupefaction  at  hear- 
ing LEONARDO  say  these  words  is  indescrib- 
able. He  looks  silently  from  one  to  the  other, 
and  at  last  breaks  out  in  these  words.] 

Tio  JEROMO.     Do  you  know  I  have  no  words 

LEONARDO.  You  don't  need  any.  I  have  said 
all  that  is  necessary. 

Tio  JEROMO.  I  couldn't  be  deader  if  a  thunder- 
bolt had  struck  at  my  feet!  Somebody  has  been 
lying  about  me.  [Arrogantly.]  What  lies  have  they 
made  up? 

LEONARDO.     All  explanation  is  superfluous. 

Tio  JEROMO.  Don  Leonardo,  it  would  be  so 
with  a  cricket,  and  yet  you  listen  to  him — and  he 
costs  only  ten  cents. 

[78] 


MALVALOCA  Act  11 


SALVADOR.     And  you're  not  worth  even  ten  cents ! 

LEONARDO.     You  may  go. 

Tio  JEROMO.  That's  it.  Kick  an  honest  work- 
man into  the  street  like  a  dog!  Then  they  talk  about 
strikes. 

SALVADOR.     You  struck  the  day  you  were  born. 

Tio  JEROMO  [pathetically].  Salvador,  Salvador,  I 
didn't  expect  this  from  you. 

LEONARDO.     What  do  you  mean? 

Tio  JEROMO.     See  if  she  isn't  sorry. 

LEONARDO  [troubled].     Eh? 

Tio  JEROMO.  Don  Leonardo,  at  least  for  her 
sake,  for  she  loves  me  more  than  she  does  her  own 
father! 

LEONARDO.     Silence!     It's  useless  to  persist. 

SALVADOR.     Do  we  owe  him  anything? 

LEONARDO.  On  the  contrary.  Two  days  ago  I 
anticipated  five  days'  pay  for  him.  But  we  are 
even  now. 

Tio  JEROMO.  No,  we're  not.  I  certainly  thank 
you  very  much.  [Behind  his  hand.]  Curse  that 
woman !  [  To  SALVADOR  in  a  burst  of  anger.]  You've 
seen  the  time  when  this  wouldn't  have  happened ! 

SALVADOR.     You'd  better  keep  quiet. 

Tio  JEROMO.     You  loved  her  more  than  he  does. 
[791 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO  [violently  grasping  a  hammer  which  lies 
on  his  desk].  Get  out  of  my  sight  this  minute,  or 
I'll  knock  your  head  in! 

Tio  JEROMO.  Very  well,  sir,  very  well.  I'm  on  my 
way.  [Starts  to  drop  the  tools  ill  humoredly  in  a  corner.] 

LEONARDO.     Was  that  what  you  wanted  done? 

SALVADOR.     You  can  see  for  yourself. 

LEONARDO.     Well,  it's  done. 

[Exit  into  his  house. 

Tio  JEROMO.  There,  from  what  I've  heard,  it 
was  you  who  got  this  man  to  leave  me  breadless. 

SALVADOR.     Leave  the  place! 

Tio  JEROMO.     Well,  hunger  is  an  evil  master. 

SALVADOR.     Leave,  I  tell  you ! 

Tio  JEROMO.  You'll  hear  from  me.  again — you 
and  that  panoli  I  And  Malvaloca !  That  little  girl 
won't  be  long  in  hearing  about  it. 

SALVADOR.     Into  the  street  with  you! 

Tio  JEROMO.     I  still  have  a  mallet  in  my  hand. 

SALVADOR.  You've  got  to  have  more  than  that. 
You've  got  to  have  the  courage  to  use  it.  What  an 
empty  boast!  [Tio  JEROMO  throws  the  mallet  angrily 
to  the  ground.  He  gnaws  his  fist  and  goes  angrily 
into  the  shops.] 

Tio  JEROMO.     Damn  that  girl! 
[801 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


SALVADOR.  At  last  we're  rid  of  him.  The  scene 
was  inevitable.  [Calling:]  Lobito!  Lobito!  Sooner 
or  later  it  was  bound  to  come.  [To  LOBITO,  who  ap- 
pears at  the  shop  door.]  Listen,  Lobito,  don't  take 
your  eye  off  Tio  Jeromo  until  he  leaves. 

LOBITO.     I  understand,  Sefior. 

SALVADOR.     He's  capable  of  any  nonsense. 

LOBITO.  We've  had  a  good  laugh  in  there.  We 
heard  the  whole  fight. 

SALVADOR.     Come,  come!     Go  in  and  watch  him. 

LOBITO.     Never  you  fear,  Seftor.  [Exit. 

SALVADOR  [going  to  the  house].  We'll  calm  the 
partner  a  bit. 

[At  this  instant  MALVALOCA  appears  at  the 
yard  gate.  She  wears  a  shawl,  dressing 
simply,  very  modest  earrings  being  her  only 
jewelry.] 

MALVALOCA.     Who  goes  there? 

SALVADOR.     Eh?    Malvaloca! 

MALVALOCA.  Hello,  my  man!  You  here?  When 
did  you  come? 

SALVADOR.     Last  night. 

MALVALOCA.  After  you  left  home,  you  went  to 
Malaga  to  see  your  lady  friends,  didn't  you? 

SALVADOR.    Right  you  are. 
[81] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.     Did  you  bring  me  any  raisins? 

SALVADOR.     To  refresh  your  memory? 

MALVALOCA.     To  put  in  brandy! 

SALVADOR.     I  didn't  know  that  you  were  here. 

MALVALOCA  .     Carambo ! 

SALVADOR.     I  thought  you  were  in  Seville. 

MALVALOCA.     And  I  thought  you  were  in  Rome, 
kissing  the  Pope's  slipper! 

SALVADOR.     Well,  I  left  Las  Canteras,  and  have 
returned. 

MALVALOCA.     Well,  I  haven't  returned,  nor  have 
I  gone,  nor  am  I  going. 

SALVADOR.     You  like  the  village  so  much,  then? 

MALVALOCA.     I've  settled  down. 

SALVADOR.     With  a  view  of  the  fields  or  of  the 
river? 

MALVALOCA.     With  a  view  of  the  clock  on  the 
Town  Hall. 

SALVADOR.     Times  have  changed,  little  girl. 

MALVALOCA.     Always   for   the   better.     Where's 
our  friend?     Has  he  hidden  himself? 

SALVADOR.     You'll  find  him  upstairs  working  at 
figures  for  you. 

MALVALOCA.     And  he  is  in  earnest.     I  do  the 
same  for  him. 

[82] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


SALVADOR.     Leave  your  figures. 

MALVALOCA.  I'll  leave  nothing.  I'd  rather  leave 
the  sunlight. 

SALVADOR.     We're  as  far  along  as  that,  are  we? 

MALVALOCA.  Uh!  You  don't  know  anything 
about  it.  We  are  a  pair  of  lovers  such  as  you  see  in 
pictures. 

SALVADOR.     Like  those  in  Teruel? 

MALVALOCA.     It's  deadly  cold  in  Teruel. 

SALVADOR.     Is  the  fever  so  high,  then? 

MALVALOCA.  Ninety-eight  and  a  fraction.  Where 
did  you  say  he  was? 

SALVADOR.     He  is  probably  with  his  sister. 

MALVALOCA  [surprised].     Has  his  sister  come? 

SALVADOR.     She  came  yesterday. 

MALVALOCA.  Then  I'm  off.  Don't  you  think 
that  I  ought  to  go? 

SALVADOR.     I  do  indeed. 

MALVALOCA.  So  do  I.  Whatever  you  call  it,  a 
spade  is  a  spade.  Why  didn't  Leonardo  tell  me? 

SALVADOR.  Because  Leonardo  thought  it  better 
not. 

MALVALOCA.     Don't  joke.     He  is  more  romantic 
than,  you  are,  more  romantic.     Uh!     He  sees  and 
then  embroiders  everything  he  sees  with  stars. 
[831 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.  Romantic  things  seem  to  agree  with 
you.  You  are  much  prettier  than  you  were,  and 
you  have  a  beautiful  color. 

MALVALOCA.  The  quiet  life  I  lead,  my  son;  it 
works  wonders. 

SALVADOR.  Those  earrings  aren't  like  the  ones 
you  wore  in  my  time. 

MALVALOCA.  Nor  in  anybody  else's  time.  They 
were  an  idea  of  his.  He's  even  got  me  to  let  him 
give  me  my  hairpins.  Even  that!  And  I  have 
had  to  say  good-bye  to  all  my  jewelry  for  a  while. 

SALVADOR.     How  about  my  watch? 

MALVALOCA.  He's  given  the  hands  a  bad  cramp. 
Why,  if  I  even  mention  your  name  he  turns  green ! 
You  cause  him  more  trouble  than  any  one  else. 

SALVADOR  [with  a  gesture  and  accent  of  disgust], 
Enough ! 

MALVALOCA.     He's  mad  about  me. 

SALVADOR.     So  I  see. 

MALVALOCA.  As  no  one  in  the  world  ever  was 
before. 

SALVADOR.     You  don't  mean  me? 

MALVALOCA,     Be    sensible!     Can    you    compare 
raw  canvas  to  silk?     He  loves  me  more  than  any- 
body else  does,  and  in  a  different  way. 
[84] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


SALVADOR.     Differently  than  I  did? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes,  differently  than  you. 

SALVADOR.     And  what  is  the  difference? 

MALVALOCA.  Why,  even  in  the  way  he  takes  my 
hand!  The  way  he  breathes  when  he  sees  me! 
He  treats  me  as  if  I  were  somebody — not  just  a  mere 
woman.  Let's  see  if  I  can  explain  what  I  mean. 
Supposing  you  had  been  the  first  man  who  had  made 
love  to  me  when  I  was  a  girl — good  as  you  are — I 
would  have  been  what  I  am  to-day.  But  if  he  had 
been  the  first,  I  should  have  been  different  altogether. 
Then  I  shouldn't  have  had  to  run  away  because  his 
sister  was  here.  Do  you  understand? 

SALVADOR.     Yes. 

MALVALOCA.     And  do  I  exaggerate? 

SALVADOR.     No. 

MALVALOCA.  Don't  be  hurt,  Salvador.  I  have 
very  much  to  be  thankful  to  you  for,  but  that  has 
nothing  to  do  with  this  new  kind  of  love  which 
Malvaloca  had  never  a  taste  of  till  now.  You  are 
good  because  you  aren't  bad.  He  is  good  because 
he  is  good.  To  make  it  clear  to  you:  you  are  good 
in  the  morning,  and  he  is  good  all  day.  That  is 
something  like  what  I  mean. 

SALVADOR.     He  is  good. 

[85] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  Better  than  a  stage  priest.  You 
know  that  when  I  dream  I  always  see  him  with 
white  hair  and  a  staff,  marrying  everybody! 

SALVADOR.     Ha!  Ha! 

MALVALOCA.  And  so  I  am  going  away  without 
seeing  him,  since  I  don't  want  his  sister  to  find  me 
here. 

SALVADOR.     Shall  I  tell  him  you  came  around? 

MALVALOCA.  Yes,  tell  him.  No,  don't  tell 
him! 

SALVADOR.     Just  as  you  say. 

MALVALOCA.  Yes,  you  can  tell  him.  Why  must 
we  be  so  secret  about  it?  Good-bye. 

SALVADOR.  Wait  a  minute,  and  we'll  have  a  good 
laugh. 

MALVALOCA.     Over  what? 

SALVADOR.  Don  Jeromo.  We've  had  to  put 
him  into  the  street. 

MALVALOCA.  That's  natural.  I'm  glad  of  it; 
don't  you  think  I'm  not.  They've  told  me  of  two 
or  three  of  his  doings  in  the  shops,  and  I've  been 
sorry  that  I  ever  asked  Leonardo  to  take  him  on. 
Dear  me,  what  a  family  ours  is! 

[Tio  JEROMO  enters  from  the  shops.     He  starts 
toward  the  inhospitable  street,  peevish   and 
[861 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


morose.     lie  is  dressed  as  he  was  when  we 
first  saw  him.] 

Tio  JEROMO.     Into  the  street — to  die  if  I  must 
on  some  doorstep — but  with  my  head  in  the  clouds! 
SALVADOR.     God  be  with  you! 
MALVALOCA.     Good  luck! 

[Tio  JEROMO  looks  at  them  disdainfully,  and 
goes  out  through  the  gate.     MALVALOCA  and 
SALVADOR  laugh  outright.] 
SALVADOR.     What  a  rascal! 

MALVALOCA.  What  pleases  me  is  the  way  he  went 
off! 

[They  keep  on  laughing.     LEONARDO,  as  he 
reenters,  surprises  them  at  it.     His  manner 
leaves  no  doubt  that  he  is  displeased.] 
LEONARDO.     Hello! 

MALVALOCA.  We  were  just  laughing  at  Tio 
Jeromo,  who  went  out  into  the  street  with  a  face  like 
a  villain. 

LEONARDO  [apologetically].  There  was  no  other 
way  but  to  discharge  him. 

MALVALOCA.  And  I'm  the  first  one  to  be  glad 
of  it.  But  look  out;  he's  got  a  revengeful  disposi- 
tion. He  is  very  bad,  and  is  capable  of  thinking  up 
anything. 

[87] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.     I  don't  know  what  he  can  "  think  up." 

MALVALOCA.  Now  don't  you  go  and  knock  his 
brains  out  on  the  strength  of  what  I'm  saying.  I 
only  wanted  to  warn  you.  Isn't  he  revengeful,  Salva- 
dor? 

SALVADOR.  Yes,  but  who  pays  any  attention 
to  him?  I  must  go  in  to  see  if  we  are  ready  to  cast 
soon.  [Exit  into  the  shops. 

MALVALOCA.  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Leon- 
ardo? 

LEONARDO.     Nothing. 

MALVALOCA.  Don't  say  "nothing"  that  way. 
Why,  the  circles  under  your  eyes  reach  down  to 
your  neck!  I  have  been  studying  you  like  astrono- 
mers study  the  clouds.  When  dogs  eat  grass,  it's 
a  sign  of  rain.  I  come;  and  as  you  don't  greet  me 
with  a  smile,  I  know  we're  going  to  have  a  storm. 

LEONARDO.     No. 

MALVALOCA.  Yes.  Are  you  angry  because  I 
was  laughing  with  Salvador?  It  was  all  about  Tio 
Jeromo. 

LEONARDO.  Don't  be  a  child.  How  could  a 
thing  like  that  make  me  angry?  You  will  soon  find 
out  what  the  trouble  is.  I  have  some  bad  news  for 
you. 

[88] 


MALVALOCA  Act  11 


MALVALOCA.  Aha!  The  dogs  are  eating  grass! 
Signs  don't  lie.  Are  you  laughing? 

LEONARDO.     Yes.     Listen. 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  out  with  it;  you  frighten 
me. 

LEONARDO.     My  sister  is  here. 

MALVALOCA.     I  know  it.     He  told  me. 

LEONARDO.     Ah!     So  he  told  you? 

MALVALOCA.  Yes.  Is  that  all?  Well,  don't  get 
excited  or  feel  badly  about  it,  for  I  won't  put  my 
foot  inside  your  house  while  your  sister  is  here. 

LEONARDO.     Why  not? 

MALVALOCA.  Because  I  should  sprain  my  ankle 
going  through  the  door !  But  joking  aside,  Leonardo, 
it  wouldn't  be  right  for  me  to  come. 

LEONARDO.     Did — he — also — tell  you  that? 

MALVALOCA.  No,  I  told  him.  What  Salvador 
said  was  that  you  thought  it  was  all  right  for  me  to 
come. 

LEONARDO.  Ah,  really?  That  was  true,  under- 
stand. But  later  I  thought  better  of  it.  I  must 
not  act  foolishly.  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for 
your  resolve,  Malvaloca.  Do  not  come;  I  shall 
go  to  you. 

MALVALOCA.  Well  your  martyrdom  is  over. 
[89] 


Act  11  MALVALOCA 


Put  on  a  happier  expression.  I  hate  to  see  you  look 
sad. 

LEONARDO.  Why  shouldn't  I  look  sad?  Loving 
you  as  I  do,  I  have  to  keep  you  hidden  like  a — shame- 
less woman. 

MALVALOCA.     Come,  come! 

The  birds  take  flight  when  the  rain  comes  down ; 
Periquiyo's  wet  from  heel  to  crown. 

I'm  Periquiyo.  But  it's  unhealthy  to  look  beneath 
the  surface,  to  remove  the  soil. 

LEONARDO  [sadly].     It  depends  upon  the  soil! 

MALVALOCA  [bitterly].  That's  why  I  said  it.  If 
you  only  knew  what  kind  of  soil  I  am,  in  what  kind 
of  earth  you  have  sown! 

LEONARDO.  Forgive  me.  I'd  like  to  choke  down 
that  thought  when  I  am  with  you,  but  when  I  am 
at  your  side  I  seem  to  lose  all  my  power  of  will. 
[They  look  at  each  other.] 

MALVALOCA  [resolutely].     Good-bye,  I'm  going. 

LEONARDO.     Why? 

MALVALOCA.     Your  sister  may  come. 

LEONARDO.  Don't  be  afraid;  she  isn't  here.  Tere- 
sona  took  her  to  see  some  of  the  sights  of  the  village. 

MALVALOCA.     Then — 

[90] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


LEONARDO.     What? 

MALVALOCA.  Are  you  going  to  cast  La  Golon- 
drina? 

LEONARDO.     In  a  little  while,  yes. 

MALVALOCA.  Would  there  be  time  for  me  to  see 
it? 

LEONARDO.     For  you  to  see  it?     I'll  tell  you — 

MALVALOCA.  No,  don't  tell  me  anything.  Even 
if  there  were  time,  I  shouldn't  wait  to  see  it.  You 
don't  like  to  have  me  go  into  the  shops. 

LEONARDO.  Aside  from  that,  the  bell  will  be 
cast  like  all  the  rest — like  all  those  other  things  you 
have  seen  us  cast.  The  mould  is  already  in  the 
ground 

MALVALOCA.  And  it's  just  the  same  shape  as  the 
broken  bell.  I've  seen  that  at  least. 

LEONARDO.  You  would  have  been  more  inter- 
ested in  seeing  how  we  broke  up  the  old  bell. 

MALVALOCA.  True  enough.  Why  didn't  you 
let  me  know? 

LEONARDO.     I  didn't  think  of  it. 

MALVALOCA.     Well,  then,  tell  me  how  it  was  done. 

LEONARDO.  Simply  by  heating  it  slowly  over  a 
furnace,  and  by  a  blow  of  a  mallet. 

MALVALOCA.     And  it  fell  to  pieces? 
[91] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO.  Yes. 

MALVALOCA.     As  if  it  were  made  of  glass! 

LEONARDO.     Exactly. 

MALVALOCA.  And  now  the  pieces  are  being 
melted  in  the  crucibles? 

LEONARDO.     Yes. 

MALVALOCA.  And  pretty  soon  the  crucibles  will 
be  emptied  into  the  ground  through  the  funnel? 

LEONARDO.  Right  you  are.  You  know  as  much 
as  I  do  about  it. 

MALVALOCA.     So,  it  will  be  the  same  bell? 

LEONARDO.     The  same,  and  yet  another. 

MALVALOCA.  I  remember  you  explained  all  this 
very  well  the  first  day  we  met.  I  was  very  much 
interested  in  what  you  told  me. 

LEONARDO.     You  have  a  good  memory. 

MALVALOCA.     Yours  is  better,  poor  boy! 

LEONARDO.     Mine?     Why? 

MALVALOCA.     Oh,  nothing! 

LEONARDO.  No,  you  meant  something  when  you 
said  that. 

MALVALOCA.  Why  shouldn't  I,  silly?  Because  I 
never  tell  you  a  thing  about  myself  that  doesn't  stay 
in  your  head  as  though  it  were  cast  in  bronze ! 

LEONARDO.     Ah!    That's  true. 
[92] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


MALVALOCA.  But  come  here,  you  bad  boy. 
Are  you  sorry  you  met  me? 

LEONARDO.     Never! 

MALVALOCA.     Do  you — love  me? 

LEONARDO.     How  can  you  ask? 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  then,  what  does  it  matter 
what  I  have  been? 

LEONARDO.  It  matters,  it  matters  so  much  to 
me  that  I  am  only  happy  when  I  forget  it. 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  listen;  I've  thought  of  a 
solution. 

LEONARDO.     If  there  only  were  one ! 

MALVALOCA.     Recast  me — like  La  Golondrina! 

LEONARDO  [perplexed].     Like — La  Golondrina? 

MALVALOCA.  There  is  a  little  song  that  speaks  of 
it: 

"This  little  girl  of  whom  I  tell, 
Should  be  recast,  like  a  broken  bell." 

Have  you  heard  it? 

LEONARDO.     Never  until  this  moment. 

MALVALOCA.  You  might  know  that  it  was  thought 
of  by  a  man  like  you  are  .  .  .  one  of  those  men 
who  make  up  all  the  good  there  is  in  the  world.  In 
[93] 


Act  II  MALVALOCA 


the  song  he  fell  in  love  with  a  woman  who  wanted 
to  have  the  right  to  a  better  life;  so  he  wrote  these 
verses. 

LEONARDO.     How  does  it  go? 

MALVALOCA  [repeats  it  with  full  meaning]. 

"This  little  girl  of  whom  I  tell, 
Should  be  recast,  like  a  broken  bell." 

LEONARDO    [drawing    her    passionately    to    him}. 
Come! 

MALVALOCA.     What  do  you  mean? 
LEONARDO.     Look  at  me. 
MALVALOCA.     I  can't  see  you  for  my  tears. 
LEONARDO.     Nor  I  you. 

MALVALOCA.     Let  me  go.     [Separates  herself  from 
him.]     I  must  go!     Good-bye! 
LEONARDO.     Good-bye. 

[When  MALVALOCA  starts  to  open  the  gate  up- 
stage as  she  turns  to  go,  SISTER  PIEDAD  and 
MARIQUITA  enter.  MARIQUITA  is  dressed 
in  her  very  best.  Their  appearance  surprises 
the  two  lovers  equally.  MALVALOCA  is 
pleased.] 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Good  morning. 
[94] 


MALVALOCA  Act  it 


MALVALOCA.  Leonardo,  see  who  has  come  to  see 
you. 

MARIQUITA.     Good  morning. 

LEONARDO.     Come  in,  Sister. 

MARIQUITA.     You  here,  lady? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes,  but  I'm  going  now. 

MARIQUITA.  Going?  Don't  go.  You'll  see  why 
I  have  come.  Don't  go. 

LEONARDO  [replying  to  a  glance  from  MALVALOCA]. 
Please  stay. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Mariquita  has  an  idea  which 
has  cost  her  a  sleepless  night. 

MARIQUITA.  I  didn't  sleep  all  night  because  I 
thought  of  it  when  I  went  to  bed,  and  I  was  afraid 
I  might  forget  it.  [With  a  tired  air.]  Ah  me! 

MALVALOCA.     Sit  down  here,  Mariquita. 

MARIQUITA.     Thanks  very  much,  my  dear  child. 

LEONARDO.  And  won't  you  be  seated  also, 
Sister? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Thank  you,  it  is  not  necessary. 
My  visit  will  be  a  very  short  one.  La  Golondrina 
is  to  be  recast  to-day,  is  she  not? 

LEONARDO.     To-day,  and  very  shortly. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  We  shall  go  and  pray  that  God 
may  watch  over  the  good  work.  Now  I  see  that  the 
[95] 


Ad  II  MALVALOCA 


wish  of  our  Mother  Superior  will  be  easy  to  carry 
out. 

LEONARDO.     What  is  her  wish? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  That  the  bell  may  sound  again 
for  the  first  time  on  the  day  of  the  procession  of 
Our  Lord  of  the  Crown  of  Thorns,  which  starts 
from  the  Carmen  Home,  and  is  very  much  venerated 
in  the  vicinity.  It  is  a  holiday  in  Las  Canteras.  The 
windows,  balconies,  and  doorways  are  all  decorated, 
the  street  through  which  the  Image  passes  is  car- 
peted entirely  with  branches  and  flowers,  and  the 
young  girls  put  on  new  dresses  made  especially  for 
the  day.  Oh,  you  shall  see,  you  shall  see! 

LEONARDO.     And  when  is  it? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     The  fourteenth  of  next  month. 

LEONARDO.     We  have  more  than  time  enough. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  So  much  the  better.  The 
Mother  Superior  will  be  pleased. 

MALVALOCA.  Tell  me,  Sister,  may  I  walk  behind 
the  procession  barefoot? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Why  shouldn't  you? 

LEONARDO.     Barefoot! 

MALVALOCA.     Yes,  it's  a  vow. 

LEONARDO.     When  did  you  make  it? 

MALVALOCA.    Just  now. 
[96] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  II 


SISTER  PIEDAD  [with  a  kindly  smile].  You  can 
think  about  it  from  now  until  then. 

MALVALOCA.  You  ask  why  I  should  do  it?  Are 
you  surprised?  It  isn't  the  first  time  I  have  walked 
behind  a  procession  in  that  way.  When  my  baby 
girl  was  sick — but  that  doesn't  concern  anybody 
here.  What  is  it  that  Mariquita  has  on  her  mind? 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     She  will  tell  you. 

MARIQUITA  [gets  up].  I  brought  this.  [She 
takes  a  small  bundle  of  cloth  from  her  bosom,  and  shows 
it  to  them.] 

LEONARDO.     What  is  it? 

MARIQUITA.  The  crosses  and  medals  which  be- 
longed to  my  son  who  was  killed  in  the  wars. 

LEONARDO.     And  why  do  you  bring  them  here? 

MARIQUITA.  Well,  you  see  the  one  wish  that  he 
had  after  they  took  him  away  was  to  listen  to  La 
Golondrina  again  with  his  mother — so  I  wanted 
them  to  be  mixed  with  the  metal  of  the  bell.  Can 
it  be  done? 

LEONARDO.  Indeed  it  can.  All  we  have  to  do  is 
to  throw  them  into  the  crucible. 

MALVALOCA.  And  that  will  be  done  this  very 
minute,  and  by  me! 

MARIQUITA.    By  you? 

[97] 


Ad  11  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.     Yes.     Kiss  them  for  the  last  time. 

MARIQUITA  [after  kissing  the  medals].  Take 
them,  my  child,  take  them. 

MALVALOCA.  Bring  them  here,  and  come  watch 
me  do  it!  Did  you  hear,  Leonardo?  It  takes  a 
mother  to  have  an  idea  like  that. 

LEONARDO.     Yes.     But  hurry. 

MARIQUITA.  Then  come,  my  child,  come !  [Thus 
encouraged,  MALVALOCA  enters  the  shops  with  MARI- 
QUITA, gazing  at  the  medals  and  crosses  as  one  who 
holds  in  her  hand  a  great  treasure.} 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  This  woman  is  certainly  good. 
She  is  a  good  woman,  a  good  woman. 

LEONARDO.  Do  you  think  so?  When  an  ir- 
remediable misfortune  befalls  such  a  person,  one 
rebels  against  everything ! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Against  everything,  brother? 

LEONARDO.  Sister,  one  would  have  to  be  a  saint 
to  resign  one's  self  to  it.  Since  I  am  a  man,  I  cannot 
do  so. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  Penitence  has  its  fruit;  so  have 
piety  and  forgiveness. 

LEONARDO.     Love  is  a  selfish  passion. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  When  love  is  great,  it  is  also  a 
generous  one. 

[98] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


[MALVALOCA  and  MARIQUITA  reenter.] 

MALVALOCA.  It's  done.  They  fell  into  the  fire, 
and  it  swallowed  them.  It  seemed  as  though  it 
were  waiting  for  them. 

MARIQUITA.     My  poor  little  boy! 

SISTER  PIEDAD.  You  have  had  your  wish,  Mari- 
quita. 

MARIQUITA.  Is  your  mother  still  alive,  Mal- 
valoca? 

MALVALOCA.  My  mother?  Let's  not  speak  of 
her. 

MARIQUITA.     Why  not?    Doesn't  she  love  you? 

MALVALOCA.  Let's  not  speak  of  that.  Yes,  my 
mother  is  alive.  Mariquita,  she  is  alive;  very  much 
so.  But  unfortunately  she  is  not  like  you.  I'd 
like  to  look  at  her  through  the  wrong  end  of  a  tel- 
escope, as  far  away  as  I  can  get! 

MARIQUITA.     How  funny  you  are! 

MALVALOCA.  You  see  how  I  am  obliged  to  talk 
about  my  mother?  Yet  I've  always  felt  sorry  for 
Adam  because  he  had  none  to  take  him  into  her 
arms!  My  fate  is  like  that. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Shall  we  go,  Mariquita? 

MARIQUITA.     Very  well.     May   God  repay  you 
for  the  pleasure  you  have  given  me. 
[99] 


Ad  II  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  When  La  Golondrina  rings  again, 
it  will  seem  as  if  your  son  was  calling  you.  See  if  it 
doesn't. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     God  be  with  you,  Don  Leonardo. 

LEONARDO.  Good-bye,  Sister.  Good-bye,  Mari- 
quita. 

MARIQUITA.     Good-bye. 

SISTER  PIEDAD.     Good-bye. 

MALVALOCA.  Good-bye,  and  God  bless  you. 
[She  opens  the  gate  for  them  to  pass  out.  They  both 
go  out,  smiling  at  her.] 

LEONARDO  [wildly — his  pent-up  feeling  suddenly 
bursting  forth  into  speech].  Come  to  me,  Malvaloca, 
come  to  me!  I  love  you  more  and  more  every 
minute!  Come,  you're  not  going  to  leave  me  now — 
no,  nor  ever! 

MALVALOCA.     Hush,  crazy  boy! 

LEONARDO.  I  love  you  for  your  goodness;  I  love 
you  for  your  beauty;  and  I  love  you  because  you 
are  unhappy!  Look  into  my  eyes,  that  I  may  gaze 
into  yours  and  be  remade  again  ...  by  the  only 
woman  I  have  ever  loved ! 

MALVALOCA.     Me? 

LEONARDO.     Yes,  you!     I  have  never  told  you, 
but  it  is  time  you  found  it  out! 
[100] 


MALVALOCA  Act  II 


MALVALOCA.     Leonardo! 

LEONARDO.  You  are  the  only  one  I  have  ever 
loved,  and  you  are  the  only  one  I  shall  ever  love! 
I  don't  know  how  to  go  on  living  except  by  remem- 
bering that  you  are  alive!  Can — you — love  me — 
like  that? 

MALVALOCA.  I  love  you  even  more!  No  one 
has  ever  spoken  to  me  like  you  have ! 

[At  this  moment  JUANELA  appears  in  the  door- 
way   of   the    house.     She    is    nervous    and 
anxious.     The   lovers,  feeling   her  presence 
rather  than  seeing  it,  instinctively  separate.] 
LEONARDO.     Eh? 
MALVALOCA.     What? 
JUANELA.     Ah,  it  is  she! 
LEONARDO.    Juanela!     Sister!     Come  here! 

JUANELA.     No!     Excuse  me — I  didn't  know 

LEONARDO.  Yes,  you  must  have  known.  You 
said  "It  is  she!"  What  did  you  mean  by  that? 

[MALVALOCA  is  abashed  and  overcome.  LEON- 
ARDO, grouting  more  excited  with  each  word, 
tries  to  detain  his  sister  and  to  win  her  re- 
spect and  sympathy.] 

JUANELA.     Nothing.     No,  let  me  go,  please. 
LEONARDO.    No,  I  don't  want  you  to  go  like 
[101] 


Ad  II  MALVALOCA 


this.  Why  do  you  tremble  before  this  woman? 
What  have  they  told  you?  Who  has  been  telling 
you  lies? 

MALVALOCA.    Tio  Jeromo! 

JUANELA.     They  have  told  me  nothing. 

LEONARDO.  Yes,  they  have!  And  whatever 
they  told  you,  they  lied!  I  alone  have  the  right  to 
tell  you  who  this  woman  is,  and  you  must  believe 
only  me.  What  do  the  others  know?  All  they 
will  tell  you  is  that  she  is  bad,  bad,  bad!  Ah,  if 
it  is  wicked  to  be  sad,  there  never  was  a  more  wicked 
woman  in  the  world  than  she! 

JUANELA.     Control  yourself,  Leonardo. 

LEONARDO.  But  I  know  her  life,  her  soul,  and 
her  sorrows!  She  had  no  one  to  watch  over  her 
innocence  as  you  had.  But  some  one  who  was 
blind,  profaned  and  betrayed  it  I  swear  to  you 
by  our  home!  Forgive  me,  I  am  so  excited  I  have 
lost  control  of  my  tongue.  I  am  afraid  of  wounding 
you,  too.  Leave  me,  leave  me.  I  shall  speak  to 
you  more  quietly  later,  but  leave  me  now. 

JUANELA.  Yes,  indeed  I  will  leave  you,  brother. 
It  is  better — now.  [Sobbing  pitifully.]  Oh,  mer- 
ciful God!  [She  reenters  the  house  without  being  able 
to  take  her  eyes  from  him.] 

[102] 


MALVALOCA  Act  it 


LEONARDO  [again  becoming  aware  of  MALVALOCA'S 
presence].  They  must  all  forgive  you,  and  respect 
you.  That  is  the  mad  desire  of  my  life  now.  .  .  . 
That  all  the  world  shall  forget  what  you  were! 

[SALVADOR'S  voice,  calling  from  within  the 
shops,  reaches  him  and  makes  him  shudder 
suddenly.] 

SALVADOR.     Leonardo ! 

LEONARDO.     Ah,  all  the  world — but  me! 

SALVADOR  [appearing  at  a  window].     Leonardo. 

LEONARDO.     What  is  it? 

SALVADOR.  We  are  ready.  Shall  we  cast  La 
Golondrina? 

LEONARDO.  Yes,  of  course.  [To  MALVALOCA.] 
Are  you  coming? 

MALVALOCA.     No.     I'll  see  you  later. 

LEONARDO.  Good-bye.  [Goes  into  the  shops  with 
SALVADOR.]  Now  to  recast  La  Golondrina! 

MA.LVALOCA  [very  sorrowfully,  as  she  bursts  into 
tears].  If  I  were  only  made  of  bronze  like  the  bell! 

End  of  Act  II 


[103] 


ACT  III 


ACT  III 

A  large  downstairs  room  in  LEONARDO'S  house,  having 
white  walls  and  a  blue  vaulted  ceiling.  Upstage  is 
a  large  door  through  which  may  be  seen  the  shabby 
old  courtyard.  To  the  right  of  the  actor  is  another 
door  which  leads  to  the  inner  rooms.  To  the  left, 
a  wide  grated  window  which  opens  on  the  street. 
The  sill  is  about  three  feet  from  the  ground.  Beneath 
it  is  a  huge  window-seat.  The  window  frame  is 
adorned  with  white  lace  curtains  and  colored  cords 
in  honor  of  the  day  upon  which  the  action  takes  place. 
There  are  bunches  of  rosemary  and  lentiscus  en- 
twined in  the  iron  grating  of  the  window.  Over  the 
sill,  and  fastened  by  iron  loops  over  the  cross  bars, 
are  pots  filled  with  flowers.  The  floor  is  made  of 
tiles.  There  is  little  furniture.  A  pine  table  near 
the  window  awaits  the  flowers  which  are  to  be  thrown 
when  the  procession  passes. 

It  is  late  morning  in  the  month  of  June. 

JUANELA,  TERESONA,  and  ALFONSA,  dressed  in 
gala  attire,  are  putting  the  finishing  touches  on  the 
[1071 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


decorations  of  the  window.  With  them  are  DONA 
ENRIQUETA  and  DIONISIA,  who  have  gone  to  the 
bottom  of  their  trunks  to  deck  themselves  out.  AL- 
FONSA  is  a  niece  of  TERESONA'S.  She  has  the 
manners  of  a  village  maid,  and  has  come  from  her 
home  village  to  see  the  Festival  of  Las  Canteras  which 
is  to  be  held  on  this  day.  She  is  one  of  the  kind  that 
wonders  at  and  admires  everything.  DONA  EN- 
RIQUETA and  DIONISIA,  on  the  other  hand,  seem  to 
wonder  at  and  admire  nothing.  They  are  the  wife 
and  daughter  of  the  owner  of  a  well-known  local  sugar 
refinery  and  speak  with  an  affectation  of  culture 
which,  however,  is  rather  a  thin  veneering. 

ALFONSA  [standing  on  a  chair].     Does  this  bunch 
look  well,  Tia  Teresona? 

TERESONA.     Very    well.     Get    down    now    and 
stop  decorating  the  window — we've  done  enough. 
JOANELA.     It  really  is  beautiful! 
ALFONSA  [stepping  some  distance  away  from  the 
window  so  as  to  see  it  better].     Oh,  how  pretty!     How 
pretty  it  is!     Don't  you  think  so? 

[DONA   ENRIQUETA   and   DIONISIA   smile  at 

the  naive  enthusiasm  of  ALFONSA.] 
DIONISIA.     What  a  child  she  is!     She  admires 
everything. 

[1081 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


DONA  ENRIQUETA.  We  do  not  care  for  these 
village  festivals.  They  are  too  artificial. 

TERESONA.  Artificial?  Why,  I  think  they  are 
very  natural! 

JUANELA.     Don't  you  really  like  them? 

DIONISIA.     I  do  not. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Nor  I. 

DIONISIA.     Nor  does  papa. 

JUANELA.  Perhaps  it  is  because  you  are  so 
accustomed  to  them  year  after  year.  Being  a 
stranger,  I  must  confess  that  I  have  never  seen 
anything  more  picturesque — more  lovely  than  the 
decorations  in  the  streets  where  the  procession  is  to 
pass. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  Really?  Why,  what  are  you 
telling  us? 

JUANELA.     What  I  feel,  the  pure  truth. 

ALFONSA.  You  ladies  can't  deny  that  there  are 
some  windows  that  look  like  regular  altars,  with  so 
much  white  lace  and  so  many  pots  of  sweet  basil! 
And  then,  what  about  the  streets,  that  seem  to  be 
carpeted  with  green  branches?  And  what  a  delicious 
smell  comes  through  the  windows!  It's  enough  to 
overpower  you! 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Country  smells! 
[1091 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


DIONISIA.  Mint  and  thyme.  To  think  of  our 
liking  such  things! 

TERESONA.  It  is  because  my  niece  is  a  stranger, 
too. 

ALFONSA.  I'm  so  glad  I  came  from  our  village  to 
see  this  procession.  Oh,  dear,  how  beautiful  these 
streets  are! 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  Do  for  heaven's  sake  stop 
talking  about  the  streets.  One  can  see  all  sorts  of 
ridiculous  sights  from  these  gaudy  balconies. 

DIONISIA.     And  all  sorts  of  worthless  rabble. 

TERESONA.     In  the  streets? 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  Yes.  [Greeting  some  passing 
friends  from  the  window.}  How  do  you  do,  Matilda? 

DIONISIA.     Hello,  Elvira! 

JUANELA.  How  do  you  do?  Won't  you  come  in 
a  while?  Very  well — I'll  see  you  later. 

ALFONSA.  How  nicely  dressed  they  are!  And 
what  beautiful  bouquets  they  wear!  How  lovely! 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  Overdone,  my  child,  over- 
done. 

DIONISIA.     Yes,  mamma,  overdone. 

[LoBiTO  appears  in  the  doorway  upstage.     He 
comes  from  the  street.     It  is  difficult  to  rec- 
ognize him,  as  he  is  no  longer  the  rough  and 
f  1101 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


unkempt  workman  of  the  foundry.  He  is 
now  a  gay  village  gallant.  He  wears  a 
carnation  behind  his  ear,  and  another  in  his 
hat;  probably  to  offer  to  some  one.] 

LOBITO  [before  any  one  sees  him.  Aside].  Hello! 
Now  I'll  have  some  fun;  these  women  are  too  good 
for  us.  [Aloud.]  Good  afternoon] 

JUANELA.     Good  afternoon. 

TERESONA.     Come  in,  Lobito. 

ALFONSA.     Hello,  Inacio! 

DONA  ENRIQUETA  and  DIONISIA.  Good  after- 
noon. 

ALFONSA.     You're  lovely,  too! 

LOBITO.  I've  got  to  be  to-day,  woman;  the  day 
of  the  procession!  The  day  when  La  Golondrina  is 
to  ring  again !  Don't  you  think  we  ought  to  appear 
in  our  very  best? 

ALFONSA.  And  he's  wearing  a  chain,  Auntie! 
Did  you  see  this? 

LOBITO.     Of  course  I  wear  a  chain. 

JUANELA.     And  a  very  pretty  one  it  is. 

LOBITO.     All  I  need  is  a  watch  to  go  with  it. 

ALFONSA.     Haven't  you  a  watch? 

TERESONA.     Well,  you  are  a  little  mischief! 

LOBITO.  No,  I  haven't  any.  I've  fastened  my 
[111] 


Ad  III  MALVALOCA 


matchbox  to  the  end  of  the  chain  for  a  weight. 
Then  I  strike  myself.  I've  had  the  girls  staring 
at  me,  and  when  they  ask  me  as  a  joke  what  time 
it  is,  I  come  back  with  another  joke.  [Laughs.] 

ALFONSA.  Oh,  dear,  what  a  way  he  has  with 
him! 

TERESONA.  Lobito,  is  it  true  that  there  has  been 
fighting  in  the  Alameda? 

LOBITO.  Yes.  And  there  will  be  some  more 
between  now  and  when  the  bell  rings!  La  Sonora's 
friends  thought  that  she  was  always  to  be  the  only 
bell,  and  more  than  one  obstinate  fool  is  likely  to 
have  the  courage  knocked  out  of  him. 

DONA  ENRIQTJETA.  What  a  set  of  barbarians 
they  are ! 

DIONISIA.     Savages. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  You  see  what  savage  people 
we  have  in  this  village. 

JUANELA.     When  is  the  bell  to  ring,  Lobito? 

LOBITO.  When  the  Image  returns  from  the 
procession  through  the  town  and  enters  the  Home. 
That  is  what  the  Mother  Superior  has  decided. 
You  ought  to  hear  old  blind  Martin! 

JUANELA.     Who? 

LOBITO.  Martin,  the  blind  man.  He's  always 
[112] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


been  La  Golondrina's  bellman,  poor  old  fellow! 
He  is  weeping  like  a  child.  You'd  think  they  had 
brought  a  child  of  his  back  to  life.  He  hasn't 
slept  for  three  nights.  He  says  he  doesn't  mind  if 
he  dies  at  the  first  stroke  .  .  .  and  I  really 
think  he  will.  It  makes  your  hair  stand  on  end  to 
hear  him  talk. 

ALFONSA.  Dear  me,  how  queer!  When  does  the 
procession  pass,  Inacio? 

LOBITO.  It  went  along  the  causeway  a  moment 
ago,  so  it  ought  to  be  here  in  about  half  an  hour. 

TERESONA.  Then  we  must  be  getting  the  flowers 
ready. 

ALFONSA.     Shall  we  go  and  cut  them? 

LOBITO.     Yes.     I'll  help  you. 

TERESONA.     I'm  going  out  now. 

ALFONSA.  Come  on.  [Exit  through  door  upstage 
and  turns  to  the  right.] 

TERESONA  [to  LOBITO  who  starts  to  follow  her]. 
Be  careful  of  the  flowers,  Lobito. 

LOBITO.  Better  tell  me  to  be  careful  of  the  fruit. 
Flowers  only  smell;  you  eat  the  fruit  after  the  blos- 
soms are  all  gone.  Understand? 

[Exit  after  ALFONSA. 

TERESONA.    He  is   incorrigible.    But  what  are 
[113] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


you  going  to  do  when  the  girl  likes  him?  It's  natural 
for  the  boys  to  like  the  girls,  and  when  we  older 
people  leave  them  alone  .  .  .  well,  it's  natural. 

DIONISIA.     Certainly,  like  with  like. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Shall  we  take  a  little  walk? 

DIONISIA.     Good  idea!     Let  us  take  a  walk. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA  [to  JUANELA].     Are  you  com- 
ing? 

JUANELA.     Why  not? 

DIONISIA.     We  shall  run  into  many  of  the  towns- 
people, but  it  cannot  be  helped. 

JUANELA.     What's  the  difference?     They  won't 
eat  us. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Ah,  there  goes  the  Alcalde's 
wife !     Let  us  call  to  her. 

DIONISIA.     Dona  Casilda! 

DONA    ENRIQUETA.     Dona    Casilda!    Wait    for 
us,  please! 

DIONISIA.     Come  on. 

JUANELA.     Very  well. 

[At  this  moment  SALVADOR  enters  through  the 
door  upstage.     He  also  is  dressed  in  his  best.] 

SALVADOR.     How  are  the  prettiest  women  in  the 
town — or  out  of  it? 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     You  flatter  us.     ... 
[114] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


DIONISIA.     Good  afternoon. 

JUANELA.     Good  afternoon — Always  the  same! 

SALVADOR.     Are  you  going  out? 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  To  take  a  short  walk  while 
we  wait  for  the  procession. 

SALVADOR.     It  won't  be  long  in  coming. 

DIONISIA.  It  should  take  about  half  an  hour. 
We  have  been  figuring  it  out. 

SALVADOR.  Well,  this  is  a  day  to  find  a  sweet- 
heart in  the  street. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Shall  we  go? 

DIONISIA.     Yes. 

SALVADOR.  Beware  though  of  strangers!  The 
weather  is  fine.  After  yesterday's  rain  everything 
is  fresh,  and  it  is  a  good  time  for  a  walk  I'm  sure. 
Don't  let  me  detain  you. 

DIONISIA.  Come,  mamma,  Dona  Casilda  is 
waiting  for  us. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Yes,  of  course. 

JUANELA.     Go  on.     I'll  join  you  presently. 

[Exetmt  DONA  ENRIQUETA  and  DIONISIA 
through  the  door  upstage.  They  turn  to  the 
left.  JUANELA  remains  a  moment  with  SAL- 
VADOR.] 

TERESONA.    There  are  few  people  I  don't  like  in 
[115] 


Act  HI  MALVALOCA 


this  world;  I  can  overlook  most  anything  .  .  . 
and  I  say  it  in  good  faith;  but  I  can't  help  disliking 
that  woman  and  her  daughter. 

SALVADOR.  What  amuses  me  is  the  way  they 
talk.  They're  so  affected  and  stilted. 

TEBESONA.  Do  you  know  what  they  call  her 
husband? 

JUANELA.     That  will  do,  Teresona.     Salvador 

SALVADOR.  What  is  it?  I  like  to  see  that  long 
face. 

JUANELA.     Have  you  heard  the  latest? 

SALVADOR.     No.     More  nonsense  of  Leonardo's? 

JUANELA.  Another  fuss.  You  knew  about  yes- 
terday? 

SALVADOR.  Yes.  He  struck  some  one  for  saying 
I  don't  know  what  about  Malvaloca.  They  told 
me  about  it  last  night.  What  is  it  to-day? 

JUANELA.  Probably  because  of  yesterday's  do- 
ings he  insists  upon  the  woman's  coming  here  to 
watch  the  procession  with  us. 

SALVADOR.  But  I  thought  she  was  going  to  walk 
barefooted  behind  the  procession ! 

JUANELA.     She  wanted  to,  but  he  dissuaded  her. 

SALVADOR.  So  then  he  persuaded  her  to  come 
here.  The  man  is  crazy. 

[116] 


MALVALOCA  Act  HI 


JUANELA.  Just  think  of  it!  What  will  people 
say?  And  these  friends  of  mine — I  don't  know 
what  they  will  do!  But  others  who  have  heard  about 
it  have  excused  themselves  from  coming.  Speak 
to  him;  not  to  persuade  him  to  prevent  her  from 
coming,  for  since  he  wishes  it,  and  this  is  his  house 

SALVADOR.     No,  for  heaven's  sake! 

JUANELA.  But  advise  him  to  be  prudent,  to  use 
discretion,  to  have  a  little  consideration  for  others. 
He  has  to  live  with  people 

SALVADOR.  All  I  can  say  will  be  useless.  But  I 
shall  speak  to  him  once  more  since  you  wish  it. 
It's  the  last  time,  though. 

JUANELA.  Even  if  it  is  the  last  time,  don't  neglect 
to  speak  to  him,  Salvador.  I  can't  discuss  things 
with  him,  because  I  have  good-naturedly  let  him 
have  his  own  way  in  whatever  he  wished  ever  since 
I  was  a  little  girl.  I  have  always  had  absolute 
faith  in  his  goodness.  "Whatever  my  brother  does 
is  surely  right"  is  what  I  have  thought  and  felt  all 
my  life.  But  now,  now  I  confess,  Salvador,  my  head 
is  in  a  whirl. 

SALVADOR.     He's  mad. 

JUANELA.  No,  he's  not  mad.  He  doesn't  talk 
like  a  madman.  Deep  down  in  my  heart,  I  under- 
[1171 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


stand  my  brother,  don't  forget  that.  Reason  can- 
not overcome  feeling;  but  there  is  always  a  reason 
for  every  feeling. 

SALVADOR.  Very  well,  don't  worry.  I'll  speak 
to  him.  You'd  better  go  now.  Your  friends  are 
waiting  for  you. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA  [from  the  street].  Juanela, 
aren't  you  coming? 

JUANELA.  Yes,  just  a  moment.  I'm  sorry.  [To 
SALVADOR.]  I  am  going  to  tell  Leonardo  that  you 
are  here.  [Exit  through  the  door  upstage,  to  the  right. 
Presently  she  is  seen  to  cross  the  courtyard  to  the  left.] 

SALVADOR.  Innocent  child!  This  is  a  nice  kind 
of  a  vacation  her  brother  has  given  her ! 

TERESONA.  It's  other  people's  fault;  they  poison 
their  thoughts.  He  is  good;  she  is  good;  and  so 
is  the  other  woman.  Can  anything  bad  possibly 
happen  to  three  such  really  good  people?  Non- 
sense! Listen  to  me:  Is  there,  or  is  there  not,  a 
God?  Well,  if  there  is  one,  and  if  nobody  does  any- 
thing unless  He  wishes  it — why,  all  I  say  is  God  is 
old  enough  to  know  what  He's  about! 

SALVADOR.  That's  seeing  things  I  suppose  in 
God's  way. 

TERESONA.  No  more  and  no  less.  Here  he  comes. 
[118] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  III 


SALVADOR.    God  ? ! ! 

TERESONA.  Don  Leonardo.  You  always  will 
joke!  I'm  going  to  take  a  look  now  at  the  other 
couple. 

[LEONARDO  enters  from  the  house,  through  the 
door  upstage.  TERESONA  lets  him  pass,  and 
then  withdraws  toward  the  right,  watching  the 
two  partners.] 

LEONARDO.  Juanela  told  me  you  wanted  me. 
What  do  you  want? 

SALVADOR.  To  see  you,  first  of  all.  Then — to 
chat  with  you  a  while.  Why,  it's  been  a  week  since 
we  exchanged  a  word !  I  thought  somehow  you  were 
avoiding  me. 

LEONARDO.     Avoiding  you? 

SALVADOR.  Don't  worry,  I'm  not  going  to  ex- 
amine you  about  business  affairs.  I  have  the  ut- 
most confidence  in  you. 

LEONARDO.  So  you  sent  for  me  to  listen  to  some 
of  your  foolish  jokes? 

SALVADOR.  The  difference  is  in  our  conception  of 
life.  You  take  it  too  seriously,  and  I,  perhaps,  too 
lightly. 

LEONARDO.     Perhaps. 

SALVADOR.     Only    jokers    make    all    the    more 
[119] 


Ad  III  MALVALOCA 


impression  when  they  become  serious.     And  I  am 
serious  now. 

LEONARDO.     It  is  a  miracle. 

SALVADOR.     Yes,  serious.     [Affectionately.]  How's 
your  heart,  partner? 

LEONARDO.     Breaking,  but  happy. 

SALVADOR.    Very  good.    And  your  head — cracked, 
but  happy? 

LEONARDO.     As  you  say. 

SALVADOR.     And  all  for  a  woman. 

LEONARDO.     For  whom  better? 

SALVADOR.     Well,  let's  have  a  word  about  that 
woman. 

LEONARDO.     I  would  prefer  that  you  let  that  sub- 
ject alone. 

SALVADOR.     It  is  several  days  since  we  talked 
about  her. 

LEONARDO.     And   there    is   no   reason   why    we 
should  talk  again. 

SALVADOR.     Yes,  there  is,  now. 

LEONARDO.     No  one  has  a  right  to  speak  of  this 
woman  to  me — least  of  all,  you. 

SALVADOR.     It  isn't  the  usual  topic  this  time. 
It  is  another  matter.     Leonardo,  this  woman  is  a 
great  source  of  anxiety  to  your  sister. 
[120] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


LEONARDO.  No,  it  is  I  who  am.  Not  on  her 
account,  nor  on  mine;  but  on  account  of  what  people 
will  say.  I  know  it.  I  can  see  it.  But  my  sister 
is  going  back  to  my  aunt  and  uncle,  and  the  day  will 
come  when  she  will  think  as  I  do. 

SALVADOR.     Ah!     Your  sister  is  leaving? 

LEONARDO.  Yes.  Very  soon.  The  day  after 
to-morrow.  I  don't  want  any  one  to  share  my 
sacrifice,  not  even  the  woman  whom  I  have  taught  to 
be  broad-minded  and  strong. 

SALVADOR.  Are  you  absolutely  sure  this  experi- 
ment will  endure? 

LEONARDO.  It  has  never  been  an  experiment, 
and  it  will  last  all  my  life. 

SALVADOR.     All  your  life? 

LEONARDO.  Yes.  You  have  never  loved  unless 
you  saw  a  free  avenue  of  escape;  you  cannot  under- 
stand me.  Malvaloca  is  my  whole  life.  Painfully 
but  joyfully,  I  join  my  lot  with  hers! 

SALVADOR.  No,  I  do  not  understand  you.  Deuce 
take  your  excuses  and  theories!  They  are  too  thin. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  know  how  to  dispose  of  a 
certain  other  obstacle,  even  if  I  do  not  understand 
your  idea  of  sacrificing  yourself  for  this  little  bird 
you  have  picked  up  in  the  street. 
[121] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO  [troubled].  What  other  obstacle?  And 
for  God's  sake  be  careful  what  you  say ! 

SALVADOR.  Listen  to  me,  and  answer  me  truth- 
fully ;  you  have  always  preached  to  me.  I  suggested 
this  course  to  you  some  time  ago,  and  now,  when  I 
least  expected  it,  the  crisis  has  come.  Would  it 
surprise  you  very  much  if  I  disappeared  from  the 
village? 

LEONARDO.  From  Las  Canteras?  But  where 
would  you  go? 

SALVADOR.  That  isn't  the  question.  Would  it 
surprise  you? 

LEONARDO.     Perhaps  not. 

SALVADOR.  And  would  you  be  glad?  The  truth, 
Leonardo ! 

LEONARDO.     Truthfully,  yes. 

SALVADOR.  I  know  it.  I  know,  too,  that  you 
will  regret  it,  because  our  friendship  isn't  a  trifle. 
But  I  ought  to  leave  you,  and  I  shall.  Without 
being  able  to  help  it,  I  wound  you,  I  hurt  you,  and 
call  to  your  mind  things  which  you  would  like 
obliterated  from  the  eyes  of  the  world.  And  whether 
you  succeed  in  forgetting  them  or  not  you  will  be 
saved  from  many  an  ache  by  not  seeing  me.  I 
have  never  been  able  to  understand  man's  love  for 
[122] 


?,iALVALOCA  Act  III 

woman;  but,  I  do  understand  the  affection  of  one 
man  for  another.  It  is  a  part  of  my  temperament, 
probably.  I  have  spent  my  life  deceiving  women, 
yet  I  have  never  been  able  to  deceive  a  man.  And 
the  funny  thing  is,  I  like  women  better!  Do  you 
understand  me? 

LEONARDO.  I  understand  you  are  very  generous. 
Forgive  me  if  I  ever  called  you  an  egotist. 

SALVADOR.  Good.  Well,  it's  all  over  now.  Give 
me  your  hand. 

LEONARDO.     Yes,  indeed. 

SALVADOR.  And  we'll  always  be  friends,  no 
matter  how  far  apart,  shall  we  not? 

LEONARDO.  Whatever  you  wish.  I  can  find  no 
words. 

SALVADOR.  Well,  then,  I'll  talk  while  you  are  in 
that  fix  and  keep  up  your  spirits.  Don't  be  foolish; 
shake  off  this  depression.  Cheer  up.  Remember 
that  there  are  more  women  than  there  are  stars, 
and  that  it  is  a  shame  for  a  man  like  you 

LEONARDO.     Don't!     Keep  still! 

SALVADOR.  Why  should  I  keep  still?  Do  you 
know  that  there  never  was  a  man  who  carried 
things  to  such  extremes  as  you  do? 

LEONARDO.  Do  you  know  that  my  soul  is  my 
[123] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


own?  And  my  grief  is  in  my  own  heart.  It  is  my 
grief,  just  as  it  is  my  satisfaction  to  suffer  it!  How 
can  I  forget?  Happy  the  men  who  do  not  shrink 
at  the  thought  of  the  others  who  have  been  before 
them  when  they  kiss  a  woman !  I  am  not  jealous  of 
you  nor  of  any  one  else — I  am  jealous  of  a  whole 
past.  And  that  is  the  life  I  want  for  mine!  Pity 
me.  Some  one  is  coming.  I  don't  want  any  one 
to  see  that  I  have  been  weeping. 

[Embraces  his  friend  and  exit  through  the  door 

at  the  right.] 
SALVADOR.     My  poor  partner! 

[MALVALOCA  enters  vivaciously  from  the  streett 
as  though  following  LEONARDO.  She  is 
dressed  simply  and  wears  a  wide  shawl  of 
black  lace  over  her  shoulders.] 

MALVALOCA.    Where  is  Leonardo?    Wasn't  he  here? 
SALVADOR.     Hello ! 

MALVALOCA.     Hello!     Wasn't  he  here? 
SALVADOR.     He    was.     But    he    heard    footsteps 
and  went  out,  because  some  one  was  coming. 
MALVALOCA.     And  it  was  only  me! 
SALVADOR.     He  didn't  recognize  your  step. 
MALVALOCA.     That  was  on  account  of  the  noise 
in  the  street.     Where  is  he? 
[124] 


MALVALOCA  Ad  III 


SALVADOR.     He  went  in  there. 

MALVALOCA.     This  way? 

SALVADOR.     Yes.     Listen. 

MALVALOCA.     What  do  you  want? 

SALVADOR.     I  want  to  tell  you  something. 

M\LVALOCA.     You  can  write  it. 

SALVADOR.     Write  it? 

MALVALOCA.  Yes.  I  know  how  to  read  and 
write  now.  He  taught  me. 

SALVADOR.     To  write,  too? 

MALVALOCA.  I  don't  know  it  all  yet.  But  I 
can  write  some  of  the  letters.  I  know  how  to  write 
his  name  and  mine.  I'll  see  youjater. 

SALVADOR.     Wait. 

MALVALOCA.     No! 

SALVADOR.     Why  not? 

MALVALOCA.  Because  I  want  to  lose  sight  of 
you. 

SALVADOR.    You,  too? 

MALVALOCA.     Me,  too. 

SALVADOR.  I'm  not  surprised.  The  world  is 
full  of  unpleasantness  of  that  sort.  You'll  find  that 
out  pretty  soon.  Do  you  know  I'm  thinking  of 
dissolving  the  partnership? 

MALVALOCA.     A  good  idea. 
[125] 


Act  111  MALVALOCA 


SALVADOR.  So  I  can  leave  Las  Canteras,  of 
course. 

MALVALOCA.  That's  a  still  better  idea  than  the 
other! 

SALVADOR.    You  like  the  idea? 

MALVALOCA.  Uh!  You've  had  enough.  I  like 
it  for  ray  sake,  and  for  his.  A  retreating  enemy 

SALVADOR.     Am  I  your  enemy,  Malvaloca? 

MALVALOCA.  At  present,  yes.  But  all  things  are 
healed  by  time.  Now  run  along,  please. 

SALVADOR.  I'm  going.  Doesn't  your  conscience 
prick  you  for  what  you  have  done  to  this  man? 

MALVALOCA.     What  have  I  done  but  love  him? 

SALVADOR.     You've  crazed  him . 

MALVALOCA.  I'm  crazy,  too— with  the  same 
kind  of  madness.  We've  had  the  same  fate. 

SALVADOR.     Is  it  possible? 

MALVALOCA.  It  isn't  always  that  two  people 
are  joined  together  and  only  one  in  love.  Here 
are  two  of  us  in  love  and  in  love  with  each 
other. 

SALVADOR.     Well,  I  advise  you,  Malvaloca 

MALVALOCA.     Come,  you're  a  pilgrim  now;   go 
and  do  your  preaching  in  the  desert.     I  will  pay 
just  as  much  attention  to  you  there. 
[126] 


MALVALOCA  Act  HI 


SALVADOR.     You're  right. 

"I've  seen  many  a  splendid  castle 
"In  ruins  on  the  ground."     .     .     . 

Well,  since  he  wants  to  keep  you  from  me — God  bless 
you !     We  won't  see  each  other  again. 
MALVALOCA.     Good-bye. 

SALVADOR.     Your  hand,  girl.     Won't  you  even 
give  me  your  hand  for  the  sake  of  the  past? 

MALVALOCA.     I'll  give  you  nothing  for  the  sake 
of  the  past. 

SALVADOR.    Just    a    good-bye    handshake — like 
two  friends. 

MALVALOCA.     Like  that,  yes. 

SALVADOR.    Thanks.     Good-bye. 

MALVALOCA.     Good-bye. 

SALVADOR.     I'm  just  the  same  as  I  ever  was. 

MA.LVALOCA.     Well,  I'm  another  person,  now. 

SALVADOR.     Good-bye. 

[Exit    into    the    street.     Conflicting    emotions 

distract  his  mind.] 

MALVALOCA.     He's  right  to  go.     But  where  is 
Leonardo?     I  don't  dare  go  in  there. 

[ALFONSA  and  LOBITO  reenter  from  the  garden. 
ALFONSA  carries  a  basket  of  flowers  which 
[127] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


she  sets  upon  the  table.     LOBITO'S  carnations 
are  on  her  breast.] 

ALFONSA.  Teresona  told  me  to  put  these  upon 
the  table. 

LOBITO.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  make  some 
bouquets? 

ALFONSA.  No,  sir.  When  they  are  loose,  there 
seem  to  be  more  of  them,  and  we  can  throw  them 
better. 

MALVALOCA.     Lobito!    Is  it  you? 
LOBITO  [turning  around].     Eh?     Good  afternoon. 
You!     In  this  house? 

ALFONSA.  Good  afternoon.  \Looks  at  her  in 
wonder.]  Ah ! 

MALVALOCA.  I  shouldn't  have  known  you.  You 
look  as  grand  as  the  Alcalde  himself. 

[ALFONSA  breaks  into  laughter  which  is  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  in  her  own  town.  LOBITO 
also  laughs.] 

LOBITO.     My,  how  she  did  enjoy  that! 
MALVALOCA.     Are  you  dressed  up  like  this  so  as 
to  catch  a  sweetheart? 

LOBITO.     We're  beyond  that  sort  of  thing  now. 

Enter  JUANELA,  hastily  and  excitedly. 
JUANELA.     Good  afternoon. 
[128] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


MALVALOCA  [somewhat  disconcerted].  Good  after- 
noon. 

JUANELA.  I  saw  you  come  in,  so  I  left  my 
friends.  Where  is  Leonardo? 

MALVALOCA.     I  don't  know. 

[JUANELA  looks  at  both  doors.] 

LOBITO  [to  ALFONSA].  Let's  go  pick  some  more 
flowers. 

ALFONSA.  Very  well.  We  can't  go  too  far  in 
the  service  of  the  Lord. 

LOBITO.     We  won't  be  missed  here,  either. 

[Exeunt  LOBITO  and  ALFONSA.  JUANELA'S 
eyes  open  wide  with  curiosity  as  she  gazes  at 
MALVALOCA.] 

MALVALOCA.     Did  you  know  I  was  coming? 

JUANELA.     My  brother  told  me. 

MALVALOCA.  I  didn't  want  to  come,  really  I 
didn't. 

JUANELA.  I  knew  that,  too.  But  when  he  sets 
his  heart  upon  a  thing — you  understand 

MALVALOCA.  He  has  his  own  way.  Excuse  me 
for  saying  so,  but  when  I  am  with  him,  I  feel  I  have 
a  right  anywhere.  But  without  him,  I  feel  as  if 
I  didn't  belong  anywhere — least  of  all,  here. 

JUANELA.     Why? 

[129] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  You  know  without  my  telling  you. 
Had  we  better  say  any  more? 

JUANELA,     He'll  be  here  in  a  minute. 

MALVALOCA.  I  can't  see  this  thing  so  clearly — 
the  way  you  can.  You  are  his  sister. 

JUANELA.  It  hurts  me  to  see  him  downhearted, 
to  see  him  weep. 

MALVALOCA.     You  cannot  love  without  tears. 

JUANELA.     Do  you  think  so? 

MALVALOCA.  Leonardo  was  unfortunate  enough 
to  run  across  me  pretty  well  along  in  life.  When  I 
saw  how  he  loved  me,  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would 
let  him  go,  but  it  was  too  late.  I  was  caught  in 
the  same  chain  myself. 

JUANELA.     Is  it  so  strong? 

MALVALOCA.  There  is  no  anvil  on  which  it  can 
be  broken,  and  no  fire  which  can  melt  it.  A  heart- 
beat forged  the  chain — and  I  never  knew  I  had  a 
heart  till  I  felt  his  beating  at  my  side.  His  sang 
there,  and  mine  answered  his  like  a  bird.  I'd  rather 
die  than  ever  stop  listening  and  answering  to  its 
sound. 

JUANELA.     I  can  see  that  it  was  most  unfortunate. 

MALVALOCA.  For  Leonardo,  as  you  say.  For 
me,  it  was  like  being  born  again.  This  is  my  punish- 
[1301 


MALVALOCA  Ad  III 


ment:  that  I  should  have  to  be  born  again  in  order 
to  be  the  woman  he  deserves. 

JUANELA.     But  that  is  impossible! 

MALVALOCA.     That    word    "impossible"    is    the 
cause  of  all  our  tears. 

JUANELA.     It  is  very  sad. 

MALVALOCA.     My  life  has  been  sadder;  and  I'm 
still  on  my  feet. 

JUANELA.     Which  is  sadder  still? 

MALVALOCA.     But  child,  don't  you  see?    This  is 

the  day  I  begin  to  live!     My  former  life What 

do  you  know  about  pain?  If  it  were  written  on  my 
forehead  then  of  course  you  could  read.  I  don't 
want  to  exaggerate  my  misfortune.  The  fact  is  that 
Leonardo  and  I  have  entered  a  tunnel  without  any 
way  out  and  with  only  the  light  which  we  bring  on 
the  train.  But  don't  you  worry:  little  by  little 
there  will  be  more  light.  God  has  lighted  my  steps. 
In  my  greatest  trouble,  something  unexpected  has 
always  happened  to  light  me  the  way.  It  is  natural 

to  me — like  my  black  hair Who  is  coming? 

[DoNA  ENRIQUETA  and  DIONISIA  enter  unex- 
pectedly.    They  are  somewhat  out  of  breath. 
After  them  ALFONSA  and  LOBITO  appear  with 
more  flowers,  which  they  put  upon  the  table 
[131] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


as  before.  Their  attention  is  attracted  by  the 
conversation  between  JUANELA  and  the  mother 
and  daughter,  but  they  content  themselves 
with  comments  upon  it  to  each  other  with 
significant  gestures.] 

DONA  ENRIQTJETA.     Goodness  me!     I  never  saw 
such  a  hubbub! 

DIONISIA.     And  how  ill-mannered  the  people  are! 
DONA  ENRIQUETA.     You  did  right  to  turn  back. 
[With  a  surprised  and  disgusted  air  as  she  sees  MAL- 
VALOCA.]    Eh? 
DIONISIA.     What? 
MALVALOCA.     Good  afternoon. 
DONA  ENRIQUETA.     What  does  this  mean? 

[There    is    a    painful    silence.     Mother    and 

daughter  exchange  a  glance  of  astonishment.] 

JUANELA  [very  much  embarrassed].     So  you  found 

walking  difficult  in  the  street?     I  thought  you  would. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Walking  was  difficult  there, 

and  conditions  are  uncomfortable  here.     We  had 

better  go. 

JUANELA.     Must  you  go? 
DIONISIA.     Yes,  I'm  not  feeling  very  well. 
DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Yes,  she's  not  feeling  very 
well. 

[132] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


JUANELA.     I'll  make  her  a  cup  of  tea. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  No,  thank  you.  Come,  my 
dear. 

DIONISIA.     Very  well,  mamma. 

JUANELA.  But  aren't  you  going  to  stay  to  watch 
the  procession? 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  Yes,  but  we  shall  see  it  as  it 
enters  the  church.  Come! 

DIONISIA.     Yes,  we  must  be  going. 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Good  afternoon,  Juanela. 

JUANELA.  Good  afternoon.  You  don't  know 
how  sorry  I 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.  Never  mind  the  explanation. 
Good-bye.  [To  DIONISIA,  as  she  starts  to  go.]  Did 
you  see,  my  child?  Did  you  see? 

DIONISIA.     Did  you  see,  mamma? 

DONA  ENRIQUETA.     Heavens,  what  shamelessness ! 

[Exeunt    haughtily    upstage    and    to    the    left. 

ALFONSA  and  LOBITO  have  preceded  them  a 

little  through  the  same  door,  but  to  the  right.] 

MALVALOCA  [humbly,  to  JUANELA].  Did  they 
leave  because  they  saw  me  ?  [JUANELA,  unihoui 
intending  it,  makes  a  gesture  of  assent.]  I'm  sorry 
for  you,  more  than  I  am  for  myself.  You  see  how 

it  is.     If  I  hadn't  come 

[133] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


LEONARDO  enters  through  door  at  the  right. 

LEONARDO.     What  is  this? 

MALVALOCA.     God  bless  us! 

LEONARDO.  What  was  it?  What  were  you 
saying? 

JUANELA.     Oh,  nothing! 

LEONARDO.     Yes,  tell  me  what  it  was. 

JUANELA.  Dona  Enriqueta  and  her  daughter — 
came 

LEONARDO.  And  went  away  when  they  saw 
Malvaloca.  Am  I  right? 

MALVALOCA  and  JUANELA.     Yes. 

LEONARDO.  Good  riddance!  Other  friends  of 
ours  declined  to  come  because  they  already  knew — 
another  good  riddance!  Every  one  according  to 
his  own  conscience,  but  why  then  make  a  parade  of 
Christ  through  the  streets? 

JUANELA.  We  must  have  more  flowers  than  this 
to  throw  when  He  passes.  [Exit  upstage  to  the  right. 

LEONARDO.     Now  you  see,  they  avoid  you. 

MALVALOCA.     Your  sister  doesn't. 

LEONARDO.  She  may  not,  but  the  other  women 
do. 

MALVALOCA.     Let  them  avoid  me.     So  long  as 

you  don't 

[134] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


LEONARDO.     Is  that  all  you  want? 

MALVALOCA.  Have  I  any  other  love  in  the  world? 
No  one  ever  offered  me  the  protection  that  you  do. 
I  might  just  as  well  say  "I  am  yours"  at  once,  and 
with  me  it  is  something  more  than  words  .  .  . 
Leonardo,  I  am  yours ! 

LEONARDO.     You  are  mine! 

MALVALOCA.  Yours!  Because  I  live  only  for 
you,  and  because  your  joy  is  my  joy.  Lift  your 
eyes  from  the  ground  and  look  at  me.  Why,  I'm 
getting  jealous  of  the  very  tiles  of  the  floor !  Come ! 
Now  I  see  you  are  smiling.  Why,  all  I  have  are 
your  arms,  and  I  have  found  shelter  there  as  one 
finds  shelter  beneath  the  branches  of  a  tree  because 
there  it  is  calm  and  at  peace!  [With  a  sudden  tran- 
sition.] But  I  don't  want  you  to  be  a  weeping  willow. 
I  prefer  an  orange  tree  which  blossoms  and  gives 
fruit,  and  which  never  loses  its  leaves  in  the  whiter. 
Do  you  understand? 

LEONARDO  [passionately].  I  am  indeed  a  tree  that 
shelters  you,  and  your  words  are  the  air  that  gives 
me  life. 

MALVALOCA.  How  romantic  you  are!  And  how 
I  do  love  you,  you  big  earthquake! 

LEONARDO.  How  happy  we  are  to  love  one  an- 
[135] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


other  like  this!     The  rest  of  the  world  no  longer 
exists — just  you  and  I. 

MALVALOCA.  Our  love  has  been  like  a  torch. 
TJh!  I  was  carrying  my  little  load  of  wood  alone 
on  my  back;  then  you  began  to  smile  and  in  half 
an  hour  the  whole  forest  was  ablaze!  And  there 
is  nothing  like  that  fire,  is  there? 

LEONARDO.     Nothing  like  the  fire,  nor  like  you. 

MALVALOCA^  How  nice  it  is  to  be  in  love!  You 
are  with  the  person  you  love  more  when  you  are 
away  from  him  than  when  you  are  with  him.  You 
wake  up  at  night,  and  you  can  see  no  one  else. 
You  sleep,  and  you  dream  about  him.  You  get  up 
in  the  morning,  and  all  you  expect  is  to  see  him 
coming  from  somewhere.  He  may  or  he  may  not 
come.  Then  you  say  to  yourself:  He  told  me  so- 
and-so  yesterday — or  maybe  he  didn't  tell  me.  He 
smiled  or  he  didn't  smile.  He  is  crying;  he  is 
jealous;  what  a  funny  way  he  throws  his  hat  in  the 
chair!  He  is  going.  No,  don't  go  ...  But 
he  must  go  ...  Come  back  then  in  the  after- 
noon, please  do  ...  and  be  sure  .  .  . 
please  come  back.  He  goes.  Good-bye  .  .  . 
Then  he  comes  back  all  of  a  sudden  to  surprise  me! 
Great  heavens!  There  is  nothing  like  love! 
[136] 


MALVALOCA  Act  HI 


LEONARDO.  Have  you  been  in  love  very  many 
times,  Malvaloca? 

MALVALOCA.  Who?  I?  Only  once.  But  I've 
had  echoes. 

LEONARDO.     Only  once?     With  whom? 

MALVALOCA.  Don  Pelayo!  [LEONARDO  smiles.] 
Wasn't  it  Don  Pelayo  who  conquered  the  Asturias — 
or  have  you  deceived  me? 

LEONARDO.     I  never  deceive  you. 

MALVALOCA.  Well,  then,  love  seems  to  have  had 
some  connection  with  Don  Pelayo.  I  fell  in  love 
with  you,  foundryman,  with  only  you  in  the  world! 
With  you — and  you're  nobler,  too,  than  Don  JPelayo. 
But  I  warn  you  first :  Don  Pelayo  has  a  street  named 
after  him  in  Seville.  Somebody  I  know  lived  in 
number  three.  Who  can  say  but  that  was  the  be- 
ginning of  our  love? 

LEONABDO  [charmed].     Who  can  say? 

MALVALOCA.  Do  you  remember  the  day  we  met 
in  the  Home? 

LEONARDO.     Could  I  forget  it? 

MALVALOCA.  One  look,  and  you  could  feel  the 
flash  of  lightning  which  always  strikes  people  who 
are  going  to  fall  in  love. 

LEONARDO.  And  then — after  you  had  gone 

[137] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  Yes,  then  you  followed  me!  I 
was  so  happy! 

LEONARDO.     Were  you  really  pleased? 

MALVALOCA.  Uh!  Then  I  stopped  on  a  corner 
— as  if  I  didn't  know  where  to  go. 

LEONARDO.  And  I  came  up  to  you  upon  the 
excuse  of  showing  you  the  way. 

MALVALOCA.  And  the  ways  we  were  looking  for 
lay  together  .  .  .  and  we  took  the  same  road, 
didn't  we,  Leonardo? 

LEONARDO.  And  we  will  never  abandon  it,  will 
we? 

MALVALOCA.  No,  my  sweet.  But  how  wonder- 
fully God  brings  things  about!  He  led  me  there 
to  ask  for  some  one  else — so  as  to  meet  the  man  who 
was  to  be  mine! 

LEONARDO  [with  sudden  sadness].  To  ask  for 
some  one  else? 

MALVALOCA.  Yes,  for  another.  To  meet  you! 
Now  don't  you  mourn  like  a  cypress  tree;  you  were 
an  orange  in  full  bloom.  The  other  has  gone  for- 
ever! 

LEONARDO.    How  do  you  know? 

MALVALOCA.  Because  I  am  a  fortune  teller  and 
clairvoyant. 

[138] 


MALVALOCA  Act  HI 


LEONARDO.  He  told  you?  You  bade  each  other 
good-bye? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes. 

LEONARDO.     When? 

MALVALOCA.  Here,  a  little  while  ago  after  you 
left  him.  He  went  away,  and  may  God  protect 
him  and  keep  him  well. 

LEONARDO.  He  went  away;  yes,  he  went  away 
.  .  .  but  will  those  thoughts  go  away — those 
thoughts  of  the  past  which  centred  in  him? 

MALVALOCA.     Leonardo! 

LEONARDO.  Malvaloca,  my  soul,  they  are  stronger 
than  my  will! 

MALVALOCA.     Oh,  why  did  I  call  them  up! 

LEONARDO.  You  see  this,  the  one  love  of  my  life, 
suffers  this  torment,  which  gnaws  at  my  heart  like, 
a  dull  pain — even  when  he  is  farthest  from  my 
sight! 

MALVALOCA.  Don't,  Leonardo !  Oh,  if  only  some 
one  could  root  up  those  horrid  thoughts — could 
tear  them  out  by  the  roots! 

LEONARDO.  They  would  spring  up  again.  Why, 
the  more  I  listen  to  you,  and  see  you,  and  love  you, 
the  more  am  I  saddened  when  I  feel  the  shame  of 
your  former  life! 

[1391 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  No — no,  Leonardo,  not  that!  If 
my  love  must  always  hurt  you,  I  shall  leave  you. 

LEONARDO.     Never!     Not  that,  surely! 

MALVALOCA.     Well,  then,  kill  me! 

LEONARDO.  That  least  of  all!  I  want  you  to 
live — by  my  side,  consoling  me,  making  me  laugh 
when  you  laugh,  or  else  making  me  cry,  sharing  my 
joys  and  my  sorrows  as  I  look  into  your  eyes,  kiss 
your  mouth,  and  stroke  your  hair  .  .  .  that's 
how  I  want  you,  I  love  you ! 

MALVALOCA.     Leonardo,  you're  mad! 

LEONARDO.  No !  One  fear  keeps  me  from  going 
mad. 

MALVALOCA  .     What  fear  ? 

LEONARDO  [looking  at  her  very  sharply,  with 
frenzied  exaltation].  That  if  I  were  mad,  I  should 
not  know  you  when  I  saw  you. 

MALVALOCA.  Come  here!  Why,  you're  worse 
than  mad!  Calm  yourself  and  that  fiery  head  of 
yours,  which  is  burning  you  up.  Why,  I  love  you 
and  you  only — you  have  made  me  into  another 
woman.  It  hurts  me  more  than  it  does  you  to  have 
the  marks  of  my  former  life  on  my  body.  But 
what  did  it  matter  to  me  what  I  was  before  I  met 
you?  Little  less  than  nothing.  I  shook  off  my 
[140J 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


sins  as  one  shakes  off  the  snow.  Then  I  met  you; 
you  spoke  to  me  as  no  one  ever  had  spoken  before; 
you  taught  me  to  love,  your  love  brought  tears  to 
my  eyes,  and  in  those  tears  I  saw  clearly  what  I 
was,  what  you  were,  and  what  my  former  life  had 
been.  I  thought  I  should  find  consolation  in  you, 
and  now  your  thoughts  take  that  from  me.  Either 
bury  them  or  me,  Leonardo,  deep  under  the 
ground  and  never  let  Malvaloca  trouble  you  any 
more ! 

LEONARDO.     Bury    you?     Put    you    under    the 
ground?     Like  the  recast  bell.     An  idea — an  idea 

Once    more    the    little    verse!     Under    the 

ground—         Oh,  if  that  were  only  possible! 

MALVALOCA.     Hush!     Let   us    not    torture   our- 
selves any  more. 

LEONARDO  [enlarging  upon  his  idea  as  in  ecstasy , 
though  with  regret].  To  form  your  beautiful  body  in 
wax,  redden  it  with  my  blood,  cover  it  with  earth, 
throw  the  pieces  into  the  fire  in  the  crucible,  purify 
them  with  the  living  flames,  then  take  you  out  again, 
pure,  clean,  another  being — yet  the  same!  New, 
spotless,  without  a  past,  but  the  same!  With  those 
same  eyes,  that  mouth,  and  that  great  and  good 
soul  in  which  my  whole  being  is  consumed! 
[HI] 


Act  111  MALVALOCA 


MALVALOCA.  Hush,  hush!  What  infatuation! 
What  dreams!  Hush!  Why,  you're  crying! 

LEONARDO.  Of  course,  I  am  crying.  Why 
shouldn't  I  cry?  Only  the  irremediable  things  draw 
tears  from  men! 

MALVALOCA.     Hush!     I  hear  some  one! 

LEONARDO.     What  do  I  care? 

MALVALOCA.     Can  the  procession  be  coming? 

LEONARDO.     The  procession? 

MALVALOCA.  Could  they  have  seen  us  from  the 
street? 

LEONARDO.     I  don't  know,  nor  do  I  care. 

[JUANELA,  approaching,  calls  from  off  stage.] 

JUANELA  .     Leonardo ! 

MALVALOCA.     Your  sister! 

LEONARDO.     My  sister? 

MALVALOCA.     Yes.     Dry  your  eyes. 

LEONARDO.     And  you,  too! 

[JUANELA  ree'nters  from  the  door  through  which 
she  went  out.  She  is  followed  by  TERESONA, 
ALFONSA,  and  LOBITO.] 

JUANELA.     The  procession  is  at  the  corner. 

LEONARDO.     Really?     So  soon? 

TERESONA.     Good  afternoon. 

MALVALOCA.     Good  afternoon. 
[142] 


MALVALOCA  Act  in 


TERESONA.     The  Image  is  coming. 
ALFONSA.     Here  it  is!     Here  it  is!     Inacio,  you 
must  explain  everything  to  me! 

[The  four  have  scarcely  entered  before  they  go 
up  to  the  window.     MALVALOCA  and  LEON- 
ARDO  remain   apart.     Soon   the   strains   of 
the  town  band  which  follows  the  Redeemer 
are  heard  in  the  distance,  and  then  draw 
nearer,  more  clearly  and  clearly  heard.     AL- 
FONSA, ingenuously  enthusiastic,  comments 
upon  the  procession  with  LOBITO.] 
TERESONA  [to  MALVALOCA].      Won't  you  stand 
with  us? 

MALVALOCA.     Thank  you,  I'm  all  right  here. 
LOBITO.     The  Cross!     See  the  Cross! 
ALFONSA.      My,    how   gorgeous!      Is    it   all   sil- 
ver? 

LOBITO.     All  solid  silver! 

ALFONSA.  Look  at  the  man  who  carries  it!  Ah! 
See  the  children!  How  cunning  they  are  with  their 
little  candles  held  in  their  handkerchiefs! 

LOBITO.  The  whole  school  and  the  Academy  are 
there.  Those  who  haven't  new  neckties,  wear  new 
shoes ! 

ALFONSA.     Oh,  do  look  at  that  little  boy  dressed 
f  143] 


Ad  III  MALVALOCA 


like  an  angel!     Look,  Aunty,  and  you,  Senorita, 
look  how  beautiful  he  is! 

TERESONA.  We  see  him,  girl,  we  see  him.  Keep 
your  eyes  open  and  wait. 

ALFONSA.  My,  his  wings  look  like  glass!  I 
wonder  who  his  mother  is?  And  who  are  those 
men? 

LOBITO.  The  most  prominent  men  of  the  village. 
There  is  the  Alcalde. 

ALFONSA.     Which  one? 

LOBITO.     The  one  with  the  silver  staff. 

ALFONSA.     With  whiskers? 

LOBITO.     Yes. 

JUANELA  and  TERESONA.     The  Image  of  Christ! 

JUANELA.     The  flowers! 

TERESONA  and  ALFONSA.  The  flowers!  The 
flowers ! 

LOBITO.  I'm  going  to  ask  Gonzalez  to  halt 
here.  Then  I'm  going  to  hurry  to  the  church  door 
to  wait  for  the  image  to  come You  know  why ! 

ALFONSA.     Take  care  to  neglect  nothing! 

[Exit  LOBITO  through  the  door  upstage,  to  the 

left.     JUANELA,  TERESONA,   and  ALFONSA 

have   crossed   to    the   table  for   the  flowers. 

JUANELA  looks  benevolently  at  MALVALOCA 

[144] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


who  is  still  somewhat  constrained,  and  with 
an  impulse  of  deep  piety,  grasping  a  handful 
of  flowers,  goes  to  her  and  places  them  sweetly 
in  her  hands  so  that  she  may  throw  them  as 
the  Image  passes.] 

JUANELA.     You  must  take  some,  too. 

MALVALOCA.     Thank  you  very  much. 

[The  four  group  themselves  at  the  window. 
LEONARDO  follows,  keeping  apart,  however, 
watching  intently.  From  the  street  a  faint 
fragrance  of  incense  arises.  The  Image  has 
stopped  in  front  of  the  window.  Meanwhile 
the  band  has  ceased  playing.  The  four 
women  throw  all  their  flowers  to  the  Image 
of  Christ,  tlien  pray  in  silence.  MALVALOCA 
leaves  the  window  and  prays  on  her  knees  by 
the  table,  where  the  flowers  were,  weeping 
softly.] 

TERESONA.     A  woman  is  going  to  sing  a  hymn. 

JUANELA.     Who  is  she? 

TERESONA.     I  don't  know  her. 

JUANELA.     She  has  a  child  in  her  arms. 

ALFONSA.     Oh,  so  she  has!     It  looks  like  a  little 
rosebud. 

TERESONA.    Hush! 

"  I  145  ] 


Act  ni  MALVALOCA 

[The  woman   sings  with  earnest  devotion   the 
following  hymn  in  a  shrill  voice: 

O  Christ,  thou  blessed  Redeemer, 
Look  down  from  Heaven  above; 
And  lay  thy  tenderest  blessing 
On  this,  the  child  I  love ! 

The  four  women  kneel,  wiping  their  eyes. 
The   procession   resumes   its   march   again. 
The  band  plays  and  moves  off.     JUANELA, 
TERESONA,    and    ALFONSA    arise.      MAL- 
VALOCA  remains  on  her  knees  for  a  time.] 
ALFONSA.     What  a  procession!     It  was  like  glow- 
ing coals  of  gold ! 

JUANELA.  How  brilliant  it  was!  How  many 
flowers ! 

TERESONA.  This  is  a  great  day  in  Las  Canteras! 
Let's  go  up  on  the  roof  and  watch  it  as  it  goes  into 
the  church. 

JUANELA.     Yes,   indeed!     It   will   be   worth   the 
trouble.     Come! 
ALFONSA.     Yes,  come  on. 

[The  three  women  go  out  through  the  door  up- 
stage,   to    the    right.     When    MALVALOCA 
[146] 


MALVALOCA  Act  III 


sees  she  is  alone  with  her  lover,  she  gets  up, 
runs  to  him,  and  sobbing,  hides  her  face  on 
his  breast.] 

LEONARDO  [embracing  her,  profoundly  moved].  Mal- 
valoca! 

MALVALOCA.  I  am  with  you!  Protect  me  and 
look  down  on  me  with  pity  as  you  hang  upon  your 
Cross!  Don't  ever  leave  me!  When  you  stop 
loving  me,  kill  me!  But  meanwhile,  let  me  be  with 
you — with  you! 

LEONARDO.  Yes,  with  me!  Eternally  tormented 
but  eternally  happy!  Overshadowed  by  the  same 
griefs,  torn  by  the  prongs  of  the  same  thorns,  but 
always — together ! 

MALVALOCA.     Together — you  and  I! 
LEONARDO.     You  and  I! 

[Far  off  in  the  tower,  welcoming  the  Image  of 
Him  who  was  able  to  pardon  a  sinful  woman, 
the  first  mbration  of  La  Golondrina,  as  she 
is  rung  by  the  hands  of  blind  Martin,  comes 
stealing  through  the  air.  The  two  lovers, 
trembling,  move  closer  together  in  each  other's 
arms.] 

MALVALOCA.     La  Golondrina! 
LEONARDO.     La       Golondrina!     Listen — listen — 
[147] 


Act  III  MALVALOCA 


how  triumphant  she  sounds!    How  I  have  striven 
and  longed  for  this  hour! 

MALVALOCA.  You  recast  her,  you!  Listen  to 
her — listen  to  her! 

LEONARDO.  She  sings  of  universal  love!  Her 
voice  speaks  with  a  new  meaning  to  my  heart.  I 
will  also  recast  your  life  by  the  warmth  of  my  kisses, 
by  the  fire  of  this  wild  love  of  mine,  which  is  as 
great  even  as  your  misfortune! 

MALVALOCA.     With  you — to  be  with  you ! 

[La  Golondrina,  whose  notes  at  first  were  sub- 
dued and  gravely  slow,  now  breaks  forth  into 
a  lively,  happy  song,  vibrant  with  the  note 
of  victory,  proclaiming  to  the  fields  and  villages 
the  life  that  is  reborn.] 

END  OF  THE  PLAY 


148 


NOTES  FOR  A  CRITICAL  STUDY  OF 
"MALVALOCA" 

"Malvaloca"  is  differentiated  from  the  usual 
dramas  of  local  or  provincial  customs  by  the  absence 
of  an  ulterior  aim,  whether  didactic  or  otherwise. 
It  is  similar  in  this  respect  to  the  lighter  Irish  plays, 
to  which  the  manner  of  the  Quinteros  bears  an  affin- 
ity. But  the  Quinteros  are  more  fagile.  We  feel 
that  it  would  have  been  an  easy  matter  for  them  to 
have  composed,  in  odd  moments,  the  entire  reper- 
tory of  the  Irish  theatre. 

The  realism  of  the  Quinteros  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  that  of  the  peasant  drama,  either  of 
Spain  or  the  rest  of  Europe.  It  is  more  impression- 
istic and  less  insistent,  having  little  in  common  with 
those  tragedies  of  blood  and  death.  Nor  has  it 
any  sociological  bias. 

The  plot  of  "Malvaloca"  is  of  the  oldest  in  the 
history  of  the  stage.  The  story  of  the  unfortunate 
woman  whose  life  has  not  sullied  the  purity  of  her 
[149] 


NOTES  FOR  A  CRITICAL  STUDY  OF  "  MALVALOCA  " 

soul — which  remains  white  like  snow — is  one  whose 
appeal  never  fails.  The  authors  accept  it  as  a  con- 
ventional device  which  is  necessary  to  the  conduct 
of  the  action ;  yet  it  never  obscures  the  dialogue,  nor 
does  it  becloud  the  atmosphere.  No  dependence  is 
placed  upon  complications;  the  situations  are  few 
and  far  between.  The  only  dramatic  moments  in 
the  familiar  sense  are  at  the  recasting  of  the  bell 
at  the  end  of  the  second  act,  and  in  the  third  act 
when  the  procession  passes  and  La  Golondrina  is 
rung  again.  But  both  the  recasting  and  the  proces- 
sion occur  off  stage. 

There  are  no  villains.  Tio  Jeromo  is  an  engaging 
rogue,  doubtless  rather  unreliable,  but  it  would  be 
ungallant  to  doubt  that  Dona  Enriqueta  and  her 
daughter  would  show  themselves  capable  upon  occa- 
sion of  the  most  exalted  conduct.  The  moral  con- 
flict is  no  more  important  than  the  theatrical  one. 
Leonardo  is  no  better  than  Salvador — he  is  less 
worldly-wise,  that  is  all;  more  sentimental.  Note 
how  Salvador  incurs  no  odium  in  the  reader's  mind 
when  he  announces  that  he  has  abandoned  Malvaloca 
and  her  child.  We  do  not  believe,  after  all,  that  he 
can  be  so  bad.  When,  at  the  end  of  the  play,  he 
sees  that  Leonardo  is  jealous  of  him  and  realizes 
[150] 


NOTES  FOR  A  CRITICAL  STUDY  OF  "MALVALOCA" 

that  he  is  in  earnest,  he  eliminates  himself  and  goes 
away  in  the  interest  of  his  friend.  It  seems  almost 
like  a  concession  to  prejudice. 

The  ideas  are  the  small  change  of  the  mind  com- 
mon among  all  peoples — Leonardo  hesitates  to 
marry  Malvaloca  because  of  her  past;  the  marriage 
is  unwelcome  in  the  eyes  of  the  sister;  Salvador  is 
felt  to  be  a  disturbing  element.  The  audience 
leaves  the  theatre  with  precisely  the  conceptions 
of  life  with  which  it  came. 

In  sketching  the  life  of  Andalusia,  the  Quinteros 
have  solved  the  problem  of  a  drama  of  sunshine. 
They  have  achieved  success  in  well-nigh  one  hundred 
plays  and  are  without  serious  rivals  in  any  country 
when  we  consider  the  portrayal  of  local  customs  in 
the  more  popular  field. 

In  its  original  form  the  play  was  dedicated  to  the 
distinguished  savant,  Marcelino  Menendez  y  Pelayo. 


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